


Galaxies Colliding in an Eternal Dance

by KaterinaRiley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Alternate Universe - Camp Half-Blood, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Galtean, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Magic Mike, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Parents, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Thunderpike, Alternate Universe - Youtubers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Dragon Hunter Keith (Voltron), Dragon Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Hanahaki Disease, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Klance AU Month 2019, Klance Month 2018, M/M, Mermaid Keith (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Protective Keith (Voltron), Reality Traveling, Superhero Lance (Voltron), Surfer Lance (Voltron), Witch Keith (Voltron), Witch's Familiar Lance (Voltron), YouTuber Lance (Voltron), mermaid lance (voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 76,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaterinaRiley/pseuds/KaterinaRiley
Summary: *based off 2018 Klance Month, but out of order*It's been a little over a year since the war ended. A little over a year since Lance had traveled the stars. He's getting restless, especially since his most recent epiphany that he, well, really doesn't want to be a farmer. So, he asks Keith to take him back into space for one of his missions. It's supposed to be simple. It's supposed to be fun.It's not supposed to almost kill him.--“Lance,” he whispered, barely heard over the crowd’s screams. His eyes locked onto Lance’s, bright and wet and desperate. “Lance, I…”They were taking too long. They weren’t fighting, they weren’t dying, they weren’t doing anything and the crowd was livid. It was blood they wanted to see spilled on the area’s floor, not tender embraces. Not almost-confessions.(No, not an almost-confession; it couldn’t have been that……but then what had Keith been about to say?)Feeling a tear falling down his cheeks, Lance brushed away Keith’s bangs and whispered, “Keith, you know this is the only way. Either we both die or you live.”
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 569
Kudos: 494





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [and i will find you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516246) by [jilliancares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares). 



> Thank you to the author that inspired this, who wrote the amazing fic above and gave me permission to write something based of it! I'm still not finished, but I have the outline for all the chapters done. Yes, the outline for every single chapter is done. I decided I wanted to put this out in the universe (heh, _universe_ before the January one started because this will not be in the order of 2018 or 2019 klance au month despite being based off it. 
> 
> Also, I'll try to update every week or every other week!
> 
> \--
> 
> I used [this link](https://twitter.com/papersynth/status/1049707385001005056) to figure out the timeline and firstly, fuck you Voltron, your timeline is fucking stupid and I hate everything.
> 
> Basically, in canon about a year passed between season 1 and 6. When the fight with Lotor happens, Shiro is ~26, Keith is ~21 (because of the 2-year time leap), Hunk and Lance are ~18, and Pidge is ~16. After the fight, three decaphoebs pass, which is about 3 years, _but this doesn’t affect the team_ because they were in that weird quintessence field thing. (Also fuck Voltron for that bullshit too.) They arrive on earth in season 7, I’m going to say it takes them about 2-ish months to get to Earth, and then season 8 happens within the same few days/weeks/whatever (not months) occurs as season 7. 
> 
> Got it? No? Me neither.
> 
> Alright so, this is how _I’m_ doing things: The team left Earth early October, before Keith’s birthday (he was 18, almost 19) and everyone, except Shiro, was **aged up a year** because I do what I want and, if you couldn’t tell, I really fucking hate this timeline. After everything that happened, they land back on Earth, finish the fight, Allura dies, etc. and for the team’s internal biological clocks, it’s been about 15 months since everything happened, which means, for their internal bio clocks, it’s early January. Thus, Shiro is about two months from 28, Keith is 22, Hunk is almost 20, Lance is 19, and Pidge is 17. 
> 
> My fic takes place a little over a year since they came back; so, it’s been an additional, let’s say 15 months, and it’s now April, which means, Shiro is 29, Keith is 23, Hunk is 21, Lance is 20, and Pidge just turned 18.
> 
> Do these ages matter much? Not really, but it’s important to me because I like to have fucking structure, thank you very much, so I’m writing this down for all ya’ll that also like structure. The big thing you need to know is that:
> 
>  **I aged everyone but Shiro up _one year_ to begin with from the start of canon and it’s been a little over _one year_ since Allura’s death**!
> 
> And now...onto the fic!

“I’m sorry.”

Lance snorted. “Why? Did you plan for us to get kidnapped and thrown into a gladiator ring?”

“Uh. Well, no, but—”

“Then you’ve nothing to apologize for.”

Keith sighed, letting his head fall back against the stone wall with a soft thump.

“This fucking sucks,” he grumbled under his breath, quiet enough that the words barely passed his lips.

Lance hummed his agreement anyway—this really did fucking suck.

‘ _This_ ’ being that they were trapped inside a very small, very claustrophobic cell on a planet that should’ve been completely barren of all life save the reemerging plant population. At least their legs were able to stretch out comfortably in front of them, though their toes did brush against the other side of their little jail. Maybe one Shiro-sized person, or two Pidge-sized people, could be jammed in with them, but as it was, they were already practically sitting atop each other.

Lance’s skin tingled where it was pressed up against Keith’s…but that could’ve just been from the fact that he was absolutely _freezing_. Hadn’t anyone heard of this wonderful concept called _central heating_? Or even, just throwing some names out there, the _sun_? Their flimsy flight suits were practically useless without the protective armor, and that was lying discarded on their pod floor, which was…uh, somewhere.

“Ugh,” he groaned, his voice slightly muffled by Keith’s shoulder. “Bad enough they kidnap us, but couldn’t they spare a blanket? It’s cold as balls in here.”

He leaned heavily against Keith, trying to soak up as much body heat as he could (Galra were freaking _radiators_ , God bless them, ‘cause Lance was always cold) and doing his damnedest not to move his leg. His memory was still working perfectly, thank you, so he really didn’t need the constant jarring and quite painful reminder that he’d been stabbed just an hour ago…

…Several hours ago? A day ago?

Shit, maybe his memory wasn’t working perfectly.

Well, however long ago it was, the fact remained that he’d been stabbed in his thigh with a blade that definitely had to have been coated in some sort of poison—skin doesn’t bubble like that when a plain, ‘ol regular knife stabs it.

He tried to remember what happened after jumping down from the ship and knocking Keith aside, saving him from death.

(That sounded _so much_ _more_ dramatic than it had been. It really hadn’t been _that_ bad. Sure, Keith would’ve been impaled in the neck from the dagger, which either would’ve killed him instantly or just made him bleed out, killing him slowly, but that didn’t happen since Lance had acted so quickly—flinging himself off the top of their pod so he could push Keith to safety. Which resulted in him being stabbed in the leg.

…Okay, on second thought, that sounded really bad. It had sounded exactly the right amount of dramatic.)

He recalled feeling the prick of a tranquilizer dart shortly after landing painfully on the ground. Keith’s wide, worried eyes that had quickly filled with pure rage had been the last thing he saw before the contents of the dart lulled him to sleep. The last thing he remembered thinking was that they’d just been ambushed and how fucking ironic was that, huh?

Wait, no, why was it ironic? It _was_ ironic, he knew, but he couldn’t remember why.

Fuck.

At least their flight suits being so flimsy meant Keith could easily rip the bloodied portion of Lance’s pant leg to make a makeshift tourniquet and tie it securely above the laceration. 

“ _Ouch_ ,” Lance had mumbled when Keith tightened it. He’d gotten a glare in response, but it wasn’t as heated as he expected it to be. Actually, it wasn’t really even heated at all. More…worried. Keith had been worried.

The knowledge filled him with warmth, but he quickly squashed that down. There wasn’t any use thinking that way; not now, not after everything that’s happened—hasn’t happened—between them. Besides, the warm feeling wouldn’t have lasted long anyway since their cell was colder than the North Pole itself.

(Yes, that was hyperbole, it wasn’t actually _that_ cold, but Lance just got stabbed, dammit! Let him be the drama king that he is, at the very least just this once.)

Thankfully, the dagger had missed any major arteries, but bleeding out, no matter how slowly, wasn’t good for the human body in any capacity. And the poison was still concerning, even though all it really had done was make his skin around the laceration bubble. He didn’t really feel any different—well, besides the feeling of being stabbed, he didn’t feel anything else amiss.

Still, Lance would rather he be slightly incapacitated than Keith be fully dead.

Fuck, if Lance hadn’t asked to come with Keith…if he hadn’t been bored out of his mind and antsy after coming to a rather harsh epiphany…if he hadn’t wanted to stretch his pilot wings…if he hadn’t been there to see the glint of the dagger…

(Oh, yeah. _That’s_ why being ambushed was so ironic. Keith had gone on countless Blade missions during the past year and not once had he ever been ambushed on such a simple, quiet outing. Lance goes on one mission with him and that’s when the ambush gods send out an attack on Keith. Go figure.)

He didn’t let himself finish those thoughts.

But it seemed that Keith couldn’t let it go.

His voice was low, almost pleading when he said, “If you hadn’t been with me, you’d wouldn’t have been hurt, Lance.”

“And if I wasn’t, you’d be _dead_ ,” he snapped, though there wasn’t any heat to his words. “I can handle a teeny leg scratch so long as your head is still attached to your shoulders.”

Keith sighed, resting his head against Lance’s.

Suddenly, Lance realized that Keith was carding his hand through Lance’s hair absentmindedly.

How long had that been going on?

…It felt really nice.

“This place isn’t even supposed to exist,” Keith murmured, mostly to himself. “We won the war, there shouldn’t be these gladiator rings anymore.”

With a half-hearted shrug, Lance murmured back, “There’ll always be bad people out in the universe, Keith. Guess we just so happened to run into some of them…”

…on a planet that had been completely wiped out by the Galra centuries ago with only the faintest trace of rubble as proof that this place was ever occupied by a civilization before. Everything was overrun with nature now.

Well, everything except for where they were.

Wherever that was.

Silence fell, washing over them like a soft blanket, which really, really wasn’t good because _Lance needed to stay awake, dammit_.

But Keith was so very warm…and he was playing with Lance’s hair… _and_ his shoulder was the perfect cushion for Lance to fall asleep on…he just felt so safe here, with Keith…so maybe…maybe a little nap…would…be…fine…

“ _Lance_!”

He opened his eyes, wondering when he’d closed them.

(And why had Keith stopped petting his hair? He really liked that.)

“Hmm? Yeah…?”

Fuck, he felt _so_ drowsy. In the back of his head, he knew that was bad, but honestly all he wanted to do was fall asleep again. He wanted Keith to stop shaking his shoulders so roughly and move back to sitting against the wall, so Lance could lean on him again. What he really, really wanted, though, was that wide, desperate look out of Keith’s eyes. It wasn’t a good look. It made Lance a bit scared because what could scare ex-Black Paladin of Voltron, current Blade of Marmora leader, Keith Kog—

_SLAP_

It took him a moment to register the stinging in his cheeks.

“You—!” His fingertips brushed against the hot, stinging flesh. “You slapped me!”

“Stay awake!” Keith growled out, but there was something else in there too. He was pleading, _begging_ , Lance like a desperate man.

Just then, the guards arrived, two of them. If Lance had forgotten they were on an alien planet, which he hadn’t, but if he had, then these guards would’ve jogged his memory real quick. Some aliens look relatively human, like the Alteans, but others didn’t, and these two aliens were definitely in the latter category.

“So, is it true?” the taller one asked, peering through the bars. Despite his question, he seemed bored, as if he really didn’t care about the answer one way or another.

He almost looked like one of the elves from _Lord of the Rings_ , except he was definitely not a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Orlando Bloom. His skin was stark white, but crackled like tree bark, and he had three arms, two sticking out from the left side of his chest and one from his right. His bare feet reminded Lance of a monkey’s, but with far too many toes. Curling out of the top of his bald head were a pair of horns, like a ram’s, but gold in color. The worst thing about him though was that his eyes were twice the size of a human’s and were completely red.

“Are you two _really_ former Paladins of Voltron?”

“Let us go,” Keith growled out, blatantly ignoring the question. He pushed Lance behind him; protecting, _shielding_ , him from the aliens’ gaze. “The Blade will be looking for us, and you don’t want to be in their way if they to come here and find us de—”

“Oh, don’t worry, you won’t _both_ be dead,” the other guard interrupted flippantly, waving away Keith’s threat like it was a measly little gnat.

She grinned, showing off her sharp teeth. She had two arms and legs, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. Dark green fur covered her entire body and she had five eyes, all solid black, with a long bushy tail, coiling around itself like a vine. Instead of a nose, two slits flared open and close on her face.

 _Kinda like Voldemort_ , Lance mused to himself.

He couldn’t see her feet since she was wearing boots, but she only had three fingers on each hand—well, two fingers and a thumb-like appendage. Without even leaning in, the smell of her breath waft over him, and he shuddered at the nauseating odor of rotting meat.

He could feel Keith’s own shudder against his body at the stench, but other than that, Keith remained as stoic as ever.

 _God, that’s so attractive_ , he thought. Then, _Wait, no it’s not. Dammit, Lance, focus_!

“That is,” the green alien guard continued, her hand fondling the weapon at her side. “ _If_ you both cooperate. I’d really hate to have to bury two of Voltron’s finest.”

“The fans would hate it too,” the first alien said. “They’re hoping for some quality entertainment.”

“And I’m sure you both can put up quite the fight,” Furry Green murmured, leaning into the bars, her eyes lidded. “Or any type of entertainment, really. Even when injured, I’m sure it would be… _impressive_ to watch you move…”

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” Keith snarled, shifting so his body shielding Lance from view even more. One of his arms reached behind him, lighting touching Lance’s thigh, as if to remind himself that he was still there; bleeding, but still alive.

It took Lance a moment to realize they were talking about _him_. That the alien’s second insinuation was…less than savory…and more provocative in nature.

He shuddered again, not just from the implication of her words, but also from just how long it took for him to put all the pieces together.

God, he was really losing it.

Maybe the dagger really did nick a major artery?

Except, no, he would’ve bled out way sooner…right?

No, stop. Focus. He needed to focus. He needed to pay attention.

“Don’t worry, _we_ won’t be touching him,” Furry Green said once she’d stopped laughing. Her five eyes glistened with sadistic mischief. “We won’t be touching either of you. In any way.”

“Put these on,” the first alien, White Tree Bark, said, throwing a pair of…of…that couldn’t possibly be what Lance was thinking it was…down at their feet.

Keith looked just as confused at the device. Gingerly, he picked it up, glancing over at Lance.

“Are these…handcuffs…?” he hedged.

“Of course,” Furry Green scoffed.

“Of course,” Keith muttered. Louder, he asked, “And how do you expect us to put these on?”

If Furry Green had eyebrows, Lance was sure she would’ve raised all of them in disbelief at how stupid the Paladins of Voltron were.

“You put them on like handcuffs,” she said slowly.

At their blank expressions, White Tree Bark added, sounding almost bored at it all, “One of you puts your hands in the middle two circles and the other stands behind, putting their own hands in the outer two circles.”

Lance couldn’t hold it in any longer.

With a giggle, he whispered, “It looks like a spreader bar.”

Keith tensed at the name, his cheeks darkening red ever-so-slightly.

“Handcuffs, spreader bar, whatever.” Furry Green waved her hand around flippantly. “Just put it on. We’re losing daylight out here.”

Daylight. That seemed important. Lance tried to think of why.

They were _losing_ daylight…so that meant it was almost night. And it wasn’t likely that they’d been knocked unconscious for over a day—there weren’t any hunger pains or quenching thirsts ailing their bodies—so it had to have been the same day they arrived…and since it was almost night, that meant they’d been here hours longer than the mission called for.

Keith seemed to have the same thought, albeit much faster, because he was grinning as he started putting Lance’s hands in the middle handcuffs.

“We were supposed to be back at the Base hours ago,” he said lowly, just for Lance’s ears. “Don’t worry, we’ll be getting out of here soon.”

Except something the aliens told them earlier had Lance frowning. He couldn’t remember which words it was, or why they caused chills down his spine, but he had a very bad feeling about what was to happen next.

He was about to voice this concern when he realized what exactly Keith was doing, and concern flew out the window to make room for confusion.

“…Why am I in the middle ones?”

Rather than answer, Keith gave Lance the deadpandiest deadpanned look to ever deadpan. He also glanced down at Lance’s leg, which gave Lance his answer.

As soon as they were situated in their, ahem, “handcuffs” with Keith pressing up snuggly against Lance’s back, their alien guards finally opened the barred doors. Furry Green had her weapon drawn while White Tree Bark strode in, leisurely. He secured a large metal belt around their waists, forcing them to stand even closer. Now all of Keith’s front was pressed up upon all of Lance’s back.

Lance wasn’t sure if the shiver he felt of his or Keith’s.

(His, obviously. Why would Keith be affected by their position? Unless, of course, to be completely annoyed by it. Or grossed out. But it was only Lance that was…uh, actively avoiding his not-feelings about the other paladin, so, obviously the shiver had belonged to Lance. Obviously.

…Shit, he completely missed what White Tree Bark just said. Focus, Lance, _focus_!)

“—will fall off as soon as you enter the arena,” the alien finished.

Then he nodded idly to his companion, who directed them down the hall, with her weapons pressed against Keith’s back, and past the wide eyes of other alien prisoners. Their whispers followed them, clinging onto the flight suits like nettles.

_‘Are they…?’_

_‘…Mamora.’_

_‘Defenders…’_

_‘They must be.’_

_‘How…?’_

_‘…Why?’_

_‘Voltron.’_

_‘…Save us…’_

“How did you get your hair like this, paladin?” White Tree Bark asked as they walked.

Lance turned his head to see the alien holding Keith’s braid, looking at it in amazement.

“Don’t touch my hair,” Keith gritted out, jerking his head.

Unfortunately, his hair was long enough now that it was still in the alien’s grasp. His lips brushed against Lance’s cheek as he turned, and Lance’s knee gave out. It was his bad leg, which, obviously, he wouldn’t be able to put all his weight on it. That was why he stumbled. No other reason. Obviously.

Quickly, Keith shifted his balance, keeping them both upright.

“Shit, Lance, how’s your leg?” he asked in one breath. His hands twitched as if they wanted to check Lance’s leg for themselves.

Lance didn’t get the chance to say he was fine. (Mostly fine.)

“Less talking, more walking,” Furry Green huffed out, poking at their sides.

Risking turning his head one more time, and fully aware of how close his and Keith’s faces were, Lance said, “I did it. I braided Keith’s hair.”

_On my porch, as we were drinking coffee._

_I wasn’t ready to start farming again, so I asked to go with him._

_I wasn’t ready to say goodbye._

“Fascinating.”

White Tree Bark truly sounded awed, but he didn’t ask anything further.

They turned down another hall. Then another. Another. Finally, they reached a very large door.

It was all Lance could do not to let his knees buckle right then and there. God, he was so dizzy, and his leg was aching and shaking, and he was honestly so surprised he’d only stumbled once on that long walk, excluding the, um, Keith-incident.

“I wonder who we’ll be fighting,” Keith pondered aloud quietly.

Lance was panting and couldn’t respond, but he suddenly knew why the alien’s words made him feel so much dread.

As soon as they were pushed into the arena and the doors closed behind them with a sickeningly loud _BOOM_ , the metal belt and “handcuffs” dropped from their bodies.

“Choose your weapons, Paladins!” a voice shouted from overhead.

In front of them was a table with an array of knives, swords, axes, and spears of all shapes and sizes and alien-origin. Naturally, Keith choose a sword, the one most similar to his Galra blade. After a moment’s hesitation, Lance chose the one next to it. Keith’s brows furred, in a silent question. After all, a crossbow had been right beside it, and that was more similar to his primary paladin weapon than the sword.

But a crossbow wouldn’t help matters this time. It would probably only make things so much worse.

After a few moments, the table of weapons disappeared into the ground through some sort of trapdoor.

“WELCOME,” the voice from before boomed, causing them both to jump. “Ladies and gentlemen, aliens of all kinds, thank you for joining us at the—”

The crowd shouted out with him: “FIGHT. OR. DIE. ARENAAAA!”

“Wow, what a creative name,” Lance mumbled, rolling his eyes. Keith huffed out a laugh.

“We have a special treat for you tonight! The Paladins. of. _VOLTRON_!”

The crowd went wild.

“Yes, that’s right, tonight you’ll watch two of the Paladins of Voltron face off against each other in a fight to the death!”

“Wait, _what_?” Keith choked out, whipping his head to stare at Lance.

The feeling of dread turned into a boulder in Lance’s stomach. He’d been right. He hadn’t wanted to be right—he desperately wished he’d been wrong, but no. No, despite _saving_ the universe, saving hundreds and maybe even thousands of planets from being completely destroyed, they couldn’t even get _one_ break, could they?

This wasn’t how Lance wanted it to end.

“Whoever wins will continue fighting until they beat our champion! And if they can win ten fights as Champion, they will be set free!”

The crowd booed.

“Paladins, you have ten dobashes to give us the fight of your lives! We want guts, we want glory, we want—”

“BLOOD!” the crowd finished.

The speaker paused, waiting for the crowd to quiet down.

“Our only rules are: If you are an even match, you both die. If you refuse to fight, you both die. If you try to escape, you both die. Our guards are stationed around the arena, making sure you follow these simple rules. Are we clear?”

Even if they weren’t, the screaming crowd roared over any questions they might’ve voiced. As it were, Keith had been silent after the announcement that they were to be fighting each other. His pale face was slack and his eyes were glazed, as if he hadn’t heard a single word the speaker had said after the announcement that one of them was to die.

“Keith,” Lance said quietly, risking putting his hand on Keith’s arm. He took a deep breath, composing himself. “You’re going to have to kill me.”

“ _W-What_?” He flinched away from Lance, as if the words had physical slapped him. “Are you…are you fucking kidding me? _No_.”

“Paladins, your time starts now!”

As the crowd continued to scream louder and louder, neither of them moved. The seconds were ticking by, drawing them closer and closer to the inevitable. Lance knew he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , let Keith die, not if he could help it.

With a steadying breath, he lunged.

Keith easily blocked.

“I’m not killing you,” he hissed, something wet in his eyes that Lance refused to look deeper into. “What the fuck, Lance; what are you thinking?”

Striking out again, he gritted out, “You _have to_.”

“ _Never_ ,” Keith growled, backing away. 

Lance limped forward, loosely brandishing his sword. “Didn’t you hear the speaker? If we don’t cooperate, we _both_ die. You’re not injured, Keith, _you_ can get out of here! You have the Blade. You have a _chance_ …I don’t.”

Keith swallowed, lunging halfheartedly.

“The Blade will be here soon. They know we’re in trouble by now, probably already sent a squadron for us.”

“It took us hours to get here from the Base. They might not get to us in t—”

“The speaker said we have ten dobashes,” Keith interrupted, his voice insistent. “We have time!”

Lance blocked, sweat dripping from his brow.

“You know, I still don’t really know how long that is,” he mused, without humor, mostly to himself.

The fight was barely a fight. Honestly, it was laughable; Lance did better during his first month as a paladin, and he barely knew how to fight then! And yet here he was, a seasoned Paladin, war hero at twenty-year-old and he was heaving, sweating, and aching, barely keeping up with the half-hearted lunges and pulled-back swings.

Keith, on the other hand, wasn’t sweating, wasn’t panting, and his braid was just a smidgen looser than it had been before. The only thing to show that he wasn’t completely alright was the pained expression that still rested on his face. Nonetheless, _he_ could win this; he could win it all. Out of everyone Lance knew in the universe, which was a lot of people, it was Keith, he had no doubt, that could be the Champion, ten—no, a _hundred_ —times over.

There was no way Lance could survive long enough to escape, or be rescued, not if he was actually fighting against a swarm of enemy guards, who wouldn’t be going easy on him.

They lunged and parried for a few minutes in silence. It seemed to be enough for the crowd, since they were still cheering, but neither paladin cared what the crowd thought. Lance’s silence was to let Keith come to terms with what would have to happen while Keith was trying to come up with a plan.

“We’re paladins of Voltron,” Keith said eventually. His voice was strained and there was the slightest tremble in his arm. “We can fight off the guards. We can force our way out of here.”

Lance shook his head, which was a mistake because now he was even dizzier and fighting down another wave of nausea.

“M-Maybe you can, Keith,” he panted out, trying to steady his breathing. “But I can barely fake-fight you right now. I won’t make it. I’ll only slow you down.”

As if to make his point, he accidently put too much weight on his injured leg and his knee gave out. He fell to the ground in a heap of sweat and dust, breath knocked out of him. It took way longer than it should’ve for him to gather his bearings, re-catch his breath, and move his body.

Keith didn’t even try to attack him, the idiot. Instead, he dropped his sword and offered his hand that tremored ever-so-slightly. Lance took it, so maybe he was an idiot too. Keith’s other hand was gripping Lance’s arm tightly, as if he was afraid of what would happen if he let go.

“Lance,” he whispered, barely heard over the crowd’s screams. His eyes locked onto Lance’s, bright and wet and desperate. “Lance, I…”

They were taking too long. They weren’t fighting, they weren’t dying, they weren’t doing anything and the crowd was livid. It was blood they wanted to see spilled on the area’s floor, not tender embraces. Not almost-confessions.

(No, not an almost-confession; it couldn’t have been that…

…but then what had Keith been about to say?)

Feeling a tear falling down his cheeks, Lance brushed away Keith’s bangs and whispered, “Keith, you know this is the only way. Either we both die or you live.”

A pause.

“Nobody is going to die,” Keith gritted out, squaring his shoulders. “Lance, I’m _not_ letting you die!”

It took every single bit of strength he had, but Lance carefully moved out of Keith’s touch. Immediately, he regretted it, but he knew he couldn’t move back in.

“You’re a stubborn ass, you know that, mullet?” His lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the ghost of a laugh on Keith’s own lips. “But I’m still not going to let you die when it could just be me.”

Keith’s gaze hardened and he took a forward, fists balled at his sides.

“You weren’t even supposed to be here, Lance!” he snarled out. “You were supposed to be at your farm, _safe_. On earth! I’m the only one who was—” He cut himself off, suddenly losing the moment of his rant. His eyes locked back onto Lance’s and his voice turned to steel. “If anyone’s going to die, it will be _me_.”

He looked at the screaming crowd like he wanted to run them down and paint the planet with their blood. He looked at Lance like he want to run to him and…Lance wasn’t entirely sure what, but there was something there. Something that made his heart flutter and his toes curl.

Something that was too late.

“I don’t really like farming, actually,” Lance admitted quietly, allowing a touch of amusement to color his voice.

Now Keith looked at him like his entire world was crashing down around him. The anger disappeared from his eyes, being replaced with a soft, wet, open look that almost made Lance want to take back everything he’d said and agree to fight off the guards instead.

But he knew how that would end.

It would be pointless—Lance would die anyway.

He bent down to pick up their discarded swords, swallowing down the nausea that accompanied the motion. Carefully, he tossed Keith’s back to him, and he, of course, caught it with the practiced ease and reflexes of a true sword master-warrior-samurai. Lance lifted up his own sword, holding it out, and pretended he couldn’t see the blade tremble in his hands or the black sports that started dancing around in his vision.

Louder, he said, “Keith, you know we can’t both make it out of this. You heard the speaker; you see the crowd. This whole thing is about wanting to see blood, and I _won’t_ have them kill us both.”

“I…I _can’t_ kill you, Lance.” A tear fell down his cheeks. “I _can’t_ , I… I…”

Lace wanted to smile. It was rare for Keith to show any sort of emotion so strongly; when he did, it usually meant he cared _a lot_ about something. But he was sure smiling would only make it worse.

“Keith, remember what I said? At that weird quiz show we dreamed about years ago?” he asked, panting, trying to ignore his burning leg and aching head and churning stomach. “I think—no, I _know_. You’re the future, Keith. You’re my…my future. I can’t kill you either.”

It was as close to a confession as he was ever going to get.

“Lance, I…” Another tear slid down Keith’s face. He took a shuddering breath. “You’re the future too. _My_ future. Lance, I lo—”

“Paladins!” the overhead voice boomed, causing them both to jump. “You have less than one dobash before your time runs out.”

Around them, the guards stepped out into the light, encircling them, weapons drawn. The miniscule part of Lance’s heart that had been holding out for a miracle, for a sliver of a chance that they both could actually make it out alive, withered away at the sight. There were far too many guards for them to fight off, even had Lance not been injured. Even if he had a crossbow—or, hell, a _blaster_ —and a good leg, there was no way they could fight their way through the guards _and_ the crowd.

Keith was looking around at them, his face pained as if he was realizing the same thing. Taking advantage of the distraction, Lance took another deep, steadying himself…and lunged. His leg hated him for it, but it was nothing compared to the pain blossoming from his chest. 

“ _LANCE_!”

Keith was quick, moving the blade away from Lance’s heart, but not quick enough. It pressed into him, just a few inches below his heart, between two of his ribs and right into his lungs. 

“ _Lance_ …” Keith’s voice was absolutely shattered as he cradled Lance in his arms. “You…you _fucker_ , you…fuck, Lance.”

He wanted to laugh.

He couldn’t; it hurt too much. 

“You can survive,” he gasped out, clutching at Keith’s arm, looking up at him like he’d hung the sun, moon, and stars. He could feel the blood dripping out the side of his mouth. “ _Survive_ , Keith. Get out of here.”

But it didn’t seem like Keith had heard a word he’d said.

“Don’t die,” he whispered, tears sliding down his face and onto Lance’s cheeks. “Don’t you fucking dare die, Lance, don’t you _dare_ , don’t—” He broke off, choking on the words.

Lance closed his eyes. He tried to drown out the roar of the crowd and the wetness of the blood. He tried to focus on Keith. Keith’s body heat, his hands, his voice, his…

Were those lips pressed against his temple?

And then, suddenly, Keith was gone. He opened his eyes. No one was around him. But someone was shouting, screaming louder than the crowd.

Keith.

Belatedly, Lance realized he was fighting the guards. 

_Keith, no_ , he thought desperately. _Dammit, Keith, no!_

A bright light blinded him. 

(Wasn’t the light to heaven supposed to be soft? This fucking hurt.)

He felt hands on him, heard someone above him. It didn’t feel like the rough hands of merciless guards. These, hands were gentle. The voice was familiar. It was comforting. He could die like this, he thought. It would be fine, dying in this embrace.

Except he also felt more blood in his mouth, heard ringing in his ears. His chest burned and he thought maybe he was screaming at the feeling. Did someone take the sword out? Why did they do that? Why couldn’t they just leave it in? Now everything felt ten thousand times worse than before. It was all just too much.

Too much pain.

Too much light.

Too much shouting.

He closed his eyes again. 

He took shuddering, bloody breath.

And, finally, his world turned black.

Quiet.

Painless.

Eternal.

Then he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up!  
> 1) Cafe AU  
> 2) High School AU  
> 3) Mermaid AU **slight nsfw**
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	2. I'll Have Another Cup of Coffee (Then I'll Go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Café AU 
> 
> or, alternately titled: Lance Has No Idea What the Fuck is Going On (Poor Baby)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!! Here's my present for you: chapter 2!! Enjoy <3

Coffee.

Heaven smelled like hot, fresh, milky coffee.

And scones—delicious, warm blueberry and raspberry and pumpkin scones. With icing.

Heaven was filled with coffee and scones and soft music and muttering people and—

Wait what?

 _Muttering people_?

Lance blinked.

The soft, hazy lights sharpened and the scene before him became confusingly crystal clear. He stood in the middle of a room, alone but surrounded by voices, while holding a hot drink in one hand and an empty cup in the other.

“—ith!” his voice was saying. “Got a caramel latte for you!”

Well, no, not alone in the middle of a room. There was a counter in front of him, covered with machines and milk and syrup containers. Behind that was a crowd of people, talking and laughing and smiling and…human. They all looked human. There wasn’t a single alien in sight.

This couldn’t be heaven.

This was too bizarre, too chaotic, to be what he’d always imagined heaven to be…

So, where the fuck _was_ he?

“Dude,” someone whispered. “Are you okay? You look really spacy.”

He blinked. The crowd remained. The noise didn’t change.

“I-I was…” he began. “I was _dying_ …I…”

 _I wasn’t here_.

Turning, he nearly dropped the cups in his hand.

Hunk—it was _Hunk_ —laughed, nudging him playfully with a big, bright, genuine smile stretching his lips.

“Man, this time always makes me feel like I’m dying too, but you gotta keep up, dude. We can’t lose business, not now.”

No, no, no, no, no, _no_.

This _couldn’t_ be heaven because that would mean Hunk was dead too, and Lance wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully if somehow his best friend had also suddenly die—

Wait, did he just say _business_? 

“Is that my drink?” someone else’s voice asked.

Lance turned to see a messy, mop of black hair shadowing tired, gray-purple eyes with dark, puffy bags underneath.

“ _K-Keith_?” he gaped, staring at the person before him.

No! No, no, no, no, no, _fuck_! Keith couldn’t be dead too! Lance had given up his life for Keith to live! He was dead so that Keith could…could…

…Wait.

Maybe he wasn’t…

Maybe _this_ wasn’t…

Maybe Lance wasn’t in heaven.

The person in front of him looked like the Keith he knew, but there were enough discrepancies that had Lance’s mind going in overdrive, trying to understand what it was that was happening to him.

This Keith was wearing black skinny jeans and a big, red sweater while a black messenger bag was swung over his shoulder. His hair was shorter, back to being a mullet rather than long and braided, and his face was devoid of any scar.

“Yes?” Almost-Keith raised an eyebrow. “Is that my coffee?”

Glancing down, Lance saw the name _K I E T H_ scrawled in his messy handwriting. The cup was hot enough that his fingers started protesting at holding it for so long.

Wait, what? _So long_? He only just got here!

…Arrived here? Woke up here?

Okay, seriously, what the fuck was happening?

“Um. Yes?” he squeaked out.

The doppelgänger frowned.

“You don’t sound sure,” he said, reaching over and looking at the name. He scowled. “Will you stop spelling my name wrong? It’s not that hard.”

“S-Sorry,” Lance stuttered, watching almost-Keith turn around and shove his way through the crowd, muttering, “I come in here, like, every day too. Can’t even spell my name…”

“Lance!” Hunk snapped, not unkindly. He seemed amused, though there was a bit of frustration coloring his voice too. “You have more drinks to fill, please stop ogling your crush!”

“W-What? I’m not—! He’s not—!”

Distantly, he realized he couldn’t feel the pain in his chest or leg anymore. He couldn’t even feel the sweat on his brow or the dust coating his body. In fact, he felt perfectly healthy and, minus a few spills on his hands and apron, totally clean. Nonetheless, he was sorely confused.

He knew, he was completely, without-a-doubt certain, that he’d been dying on a different planet just minutes ago. He remembered the pain of a dagger sinking into his leg. He remembered the heat of Keith’s body as they sat in the cell, walked down the corridors, and fought against each other. He remembered flinging himself onto Keith’s brandished sword. He remembered the sharp ache in his chest and choking on his own blood.

He knew that had all _just_ happened…but he also knew that this wasn’t heaven.

So then that had to mean he was either in hell, which also didn’t seem right…

_Or_

He was actually still dying on that planet…and that didn’t seem wrong…it seemed…kinda right actually.

Yeah.

Yeah, okay, that’s gotta be it.

He wasn’t dead _yet_ , but he _was_ currently dying, and this café around him was just an illusion. His subconscious created an illusion so that the transition from life into death was less painless and more pleasant. That’s all this was. All it could be. Just an illusion.

(But if so, why the hell did his subconscious put him smack dab in the middle of a café rush? Sure, Lance loved cafés—to drink and chat in, not _work_ in.)

“Lance!” Hunk snapped again, this time less amused and more frustrated. “Stop dawdling!”

 _Well, it’s better than feeling a sword ripping my lung_ , he thought, and got to work.

Somehow, his hands knew exactly what to do. They flew over the machines and reached for the ingredients almost like they had a mind of their own. But whenever he thought about it too hard, thought about how he could possibly know that the peppermint syrup was in its own special location or how the milk was in the fridge behind him to the left, not the right, then he’d mess up the order. Like, seriously mess up the order. Hunk had to give eleven people their money back in the span of two hours.

He did however, get really good at making the Pegasus Rainbow Deluxe drink, considering at least half of the crowd wanted it. It was a vanilla Frappuccino with blueberry, raspberry, and boysenberry syrup, all mixed with a handful of sprinkles. The cavity-waiting-to-happen was topped with whipped cream, more sprinkles, two little fake wings, and even more sprinkles.

Still, as long as he left his mind blank instead of, say, questioning why his subconscious thought making him believe he was in a busy café was better than laying on the dirty area ground and dying was a good idea, he did alright.

And by “alright,” he meant that despite the amount of times he thought about crying because a customer was yelling bloody murder at him for “ruining their drink,” he didn’t let any tears spill from his eyes. But he was, by the end of it, completely and utterly emotionally, physically, mentally, and any other -ally spent.

“Dude, what is up with you?” Hunk frowned, once the line and crowd finally disappeared. “Are you getting sick?”

Lance gently batted away Hunk’s hand that was resting against his forehead.

“No, I’m not sick,” he said unconvincingly, stepping out of Hunk’s reach.

Did dying on a planet and being trapped in his subconscious’ idea of a good time count as being sick? It definitely didn’t sound healthy.

“Is it the company?” Hunk asked, his frown increasing at Lance’s weird behavior. “I know we haven’t been doing so hot, but business is finally getting steady! We’ve got our regulars _and_ new people wanting to try our Pegasus drink!”

Lance’s jaw fell. “Uh…”

Hunk had just implied that he and Lance _owned_ this café. That the place, the business, the drinks, the scones…it was all _theirs_.

He wasn’t able to form a response before the front door chimed, signaling more customers. Except it wasn’t just any random customers. It was _Keith_ —well, the almost-Keith—and this time, he didn’t have a messenger bag swung over his shoulder, but he _was_ with Shiro.

…Shiro?

No, that couldn’t have been right. This Shiro still had his right arm and his hair was completely black. He didn’t have a single scratch on him—not even his nose scar!

“Welcome,” Hunk greeted, shooting a nervous look towards Lance.

“Hi!”

That was certainly Shiro’s voice that came out of the not-Shiro.

“My brother says you guys are the best coffee shop in the city.”

“Well, we try our best here at _Hance’s Coffee, Culture, and Cakes_ ,” Hunk replied, smiling.

Lance blinked. _Hance_? Was that supposed to be some sort of combination of their names?

“It’s pretty cute,” not-Shiro said, looking around. “Can I, um, get that new coffee you have? The one with all the whipped cream and sprinkles? Large, please.”

 _Sprinkles_? Shiro wanted the coffee with whipped cream _and_ sprinkles?

Shiro _hated_ sugary coffee. Sprinkles only belonged on ice cream, he’d say, before shoving an entire scoop in his mouth and boasting that he hadn’t ever gotten a brain freeze since being in his new body.

“The Rainbow Pegasus Deluxe? Absolutely!” Hunk beamed, though the message his eyes sent when he glanced back towards Lance was anything but cheerful. “Anything else?”

“Can you make it non-fat?”

Non-fat.

 _Non-fat_.

Non-fucking-fat.

That was the word that teetered Lance over the edge.

He thought he could hold on, thought he could pretend for longer, but no.

With no shame, Lance will wholly admit that Shiro wanting the coffee with whipped cream and sprinkles to be made non-fat was the thing that made his knees buckle and his head swoon.

One moment he was standing, staring at the scene before him, but in the next, the ground was speeding towards his face with black spots dancing in the corners of his eyes. His nose erupted in a blast of pain as his vision darkened once again.

He woke up to Hunk’s worried fretting: “—nose is bleeding; oh god, it’s broken, isn’t it? Oh god, oh god, oh god…”

As his eyes refocused, he saw Keith comforting Hunk with an awkward pat to his shoulder.

“Welcome back,” Shiro said, drawing his attention away. He was crouching in front of Lance, his hand gently cradling his face. “How are you feeling? Lance, is it?”

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a groan.

“Yeah, breaking your nose can hurt like hell,” Shiro chuckled softly. “But don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

Compared to being stabbed with a sword, breaking his nose felt like nothing.

“Shiro,” he mumbled, blinking. “Where’s your scar?”

“My…?” His eyebrows were raised. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

Lance pushed his hand away, trying to stand up. He wasn’t behind the counter anymore; instead he was leaning against one of the walls out in the sitting area. Probably for the best since the floor he’d been working on earlier was completely covered in spilled drinks.

“Where am I?” he asked, but his legs gave out. He would’ve crashed back to the ground if it hadn’t been for Keith grabbing him by the waist (wait, when did he move away from Hunk’s side?) and steadying him. “I was _dying_.”

Hunk made a pained noise, his hands fisting his hair.

“He said that before,” he babbled, looking panicked. “Earlier. Can he have brain trauma? Or a tumor? Oh, god, he has a tumor. He’s going to die. How am I gonna tell him mom? Oh—”

“It’s okay, Hunk,” Shiro interrupted soothingly, standing up. “I doubt he has a tumor. You said he only started acting weird a few hours ago, right?”

Lance tried to stand upright again, but his legs still weren’t working. Maybe it was because, now that he stopped having something to distract himself with, his brain seemed to be going a mile a minute and all its power was being directed at trying to figure out just _what the fuck was going on_ , so absolutely no energy was being directed towards his legs. He slumped even more into Keith, feeling more and more drained with each passing second. Carefully, Keith lowered him down onto the nearest chair, but despite no longer supporting his weight, he didn’t move away.

“No,” he said, and all eyes turned to him. “No, I was…I was in the arena…I…” he looked to Keith, who froze under his stare. “ _We_. We were going to die if I didn’t…so I did…and then I woke up here…”

Keith blinked and color tinged at his cheeks from the intensity of Lance’s gaze.

Glancing over at Shiro, he stammered, “Uh, Shiro, are you _sure_ that it can’t be a brain tumor or something?”

Lance reached for his chest. He didn’t feel anything. No bump, no laceration, no blood, no nothing. Quickly, he untied his apron and pulled off his shirt.

“Lance—!” Hunk cried out just as Keith took a step back, cheeks even redder, and breathed out, “Uh…”

“There’s no…” Lance ran his hand over his chest. It was completely smooth. “There’s no wound. There’s no anything.”

“Dude, what are you—? Are you crying?” Keith choked out, eyes flickering from Lance’s chest to his face.

Shiro frowned and crouched before him again, putting a hand against his forehead. He flinched.

“Okay, maybe something is wrong with his head…”

“Oh no!” Hunk wailed, his hands covering his face. “Oh god, oh no, oh _no_!”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Shiro asked gently, ignoring Hunk. His thumb wiped away one of the tears falling down his face. “It’s okay, Lance. Just breathe.”

“It’s _not_ okay!” he sobbed out. “I was _dying_! I was in the arena and I threw myself on Keith’s sword and now I’m here!”

“You what?” Keith gapped. “My _sword_?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Shiro scolded quietly.

Lance couldn’t stop now that he started. He couldn’t stop his mouth or his tears or his hammering heartbeat.

“If I didn’t, we’d _both_ be dead, and I already couldn’t walk well ‘cause my thigh, but you’re part of the Blade, so if anyone could make it out, it would be _you_ , I know you could’ve lived, so I fell on your sword ‘cause you wouldn’t just kill me—why couldn’t you just fucking kill me—I fell to save you and—and I’m still there now, I know, I know I am—I’m lying there and bleeding out, and my subconscious thinks this stupid coffee shop would calm me down to die in peace or whatever, but it’s _wrong_ , I’m not calm, and I don’t understand, I don’t understand _anything_ —Hunk doesn’t want to own a café and you, you’re not Shiro, you _can’t_ be, Shiro has white hair and a scar on his nose and an Altean arm—”

“All-tea-what?” Shiro interrupted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Lance opened his mouth to continue, but the words stopped in his throat, suffocating him. He tried to take in a breath, but his chest just kept getting tighter and tighter. His mind went blank, and all he could think about now was how he _couldn’t_ _breathe_.

“Shit, Shiro, he’s—!”

Suddenly Keith was grabbing him again, pulling him down to the floor until they were back-to-chest, Lance nestled between his thighs. His hands were splayed out across his bare chest and stomach.

“Breathe with me, Lance,” he urged. “Deep breathes. Slow. Good. Follow me.”

 _I’m having a panic attack_ , Lance realized. He gripped at Keith’s hands and tried to breathe when Keith did. He tried to make the tears stop spilling out of his eyes.

“That’s it, there you go,” Keith whispered, the words hot on Lance’s ears.

Finally, what felt like hours later, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Lance could breathe again. The air around him was no longer crushing, pressing into him until he burst. He wasn’t crying anymore either.

“Good thinking, Keith,” Shiro praised, grinning as he checked Lance’s pulse. He was staring down at his watch, eyes flickering only once to where his fingers were pressed against Lance’s wrist. After a moment, he looked up. “Lance, I think I should take you to the hospital.”

“But I’m not hurt,” he whispered, his voice frail. “I’m not bleeding.”

“Your nose is broken,” Shiro reminded gently.

“My nose…” Lance swallowed. Who the hell cared about a nose when he was suddenly _not_ stabbed and _not_ bleeding to death?

“And while you’re there, it wouldn’t hurt to get looked over, right?” he continued, almost as if he could hear Lance’s thoughts. “Get your chest looked at too.”

Keith’s hands were still touching him, but he wasn’t wearing his gloves and the heat of his bare skin on Lance’s bare skin was almost getting to be too much.

Almost.

The heat made everything feel real. Like Lance was actually in a coffee shop with Hunk, Keith, and Shiro. It was grounding, even though Lance knew this was all in his head.

“I’m a med student,” Shiro added when Lance remained silent. “Just started residency over at Garrison General. I really do think you should get checked over.”

“Med student,” he repeated. It didn’t feel right on his tongue, but then again, this wasn’t the real Shiro, it was just his imagination.

(Except if this was all in his head, why wouldn’t his subconscious make Shiro look like Shiro?)

“Yeah, my brother’s pretty awesome,” Keith whispered, and Lance shivered at the hot breath against his ear. “He’s really good at what he does, I promise.”

“Lance, I th-think you should go with, with them,” Hunk stuttered, his face red and tear-splotched. “You’re really s-scaring me…”

Carefully, with the help of Shiro and Keith, Lance got to his feet. His legs didn’t buckle this time. It took another moment before Keith let go of his waist. When he finally did, Lance shivered at the cool air that touched the parts of him that Keith had been keeping warm.

“Here, you should put this back on,” Keith said quietly, holding out the shirt.

Before Lance could reach for it, he swayed. But not physically. It was like his mind was being twirled around in slow motion. He felt himself sinking down, black spots swarming his vision, but he also knew that he was standing upright and his knees were locked in place.

Just as he was encompassed in darkness, he heard his voice say, “Uh, why are you holding my shirt?”

And then there was nothing…

…Until a second later, when he woke up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next:  
> High School AU  
> Mermaid AU  
> Hogwarts AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	3. This Ain’t No High School // This is the Thunderdome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU
> 
> Or: Lance Starts to Figure Some Shit Out

When his vision cleared, the first thing Lance noticed was the sheer number of eyes staring at him, like they were waiting. Like they expected him to do something.

Who were they? What did they want?

And where was the café? Where were Hunk and Keith and Shiro?

“Well, Mr. McClain?” said a voice from the front.

It was a woman. She stared down at Lance over gaudy, wide-rimmed glasses; the bun in her hair tighter than the pencil skirt she wore. She kinda looked like…like a teacher? Behind her, written on the whiteboard, was…oh dear god, it was that a _math problem_.

“Are you going to answer the question or not?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently.

He suddenly realized that his hand was raised up in the air. Slowly, he lowered it down, staring at the people—the students—around him, trying to understand where he was now. Everyone, save the teacher, looked young. Mid-teens, maybe.

Everyone except—he choked on his spit—except Pidge, _Pidge_ was here, and she looked at least two or three years younger than the kids sitting around them. Her face was glasses-free and her long hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. She was sitting in front of…of Hunk, but it wasn’t the Hunk from before. This Hunk didn’t have flour in his hair or wear an apron, and he was definitely about fifteen or sixteen years old.

They had _just_ been in a coffee shop, at _their_ coffee shop. Lance knew they were just there, so where was it? Where was the smell of coffee and scones, and where were Keith and Shiro?

“I…” he looked around frantically. “I…”

Where were the tables and chairs? Why did he have his shirt back on? Why was he in a _classroom_?

“You, you?” the teacher repeated mockingly.

What the fuck was going on!?

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he blurted, standing up and racing out of the room almost as fast as his heart was racing in his chest.

He could hear the students snickering behind him and the teacher saying something about a pass, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. He needed to think, to be alone and figure out what the fuck was going on.

He found the bathroom mostly by accident.

“Hey!” someone shouted as he pushed and stumbled his way in.

Quiet.

Finally, quiet.

Panting, he leaned his back against the wall, but within seconds, his legs buckled and he slid down in a heap. Just as he settled, the person from before barged into the bathroom.

“What the fuck, dude, _watch it_.”

Lance looked up and of course, of fucking course, it was Keith. A younger Keith with ripped jeans and a weird logo on his shirt, but it was still _Keith_. Mullet and all.

(But not _his_ Keith. Not the one outside of this weird subconscious bubble, with scars and long, braided hair. Who held him and cried over him and started to say something that had Lance’s heart swelling before the speaker had cut him off.)

“Uh, are you okay?” Keith asked, the fury gone from his voice as he stared down at the crumpled heap of a mess that was Lance.

“Fine,” he mumbled out.

“…You’re sitting on the bathroom floor.”

“And?”

“And it’s filthy,” he said with a grimace.

Lance wanted to snort, but he was already struggling to keep pulling air into his lungs.

“Yeah, well, bad day, so cut me some slack,” he managed to say, voice shaking and not nearly as heated as he wanted it to be.

Keith frowned, but didn’t say anything else. He didn’t leave either.

Clutching his knees into his chest, Lance closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

 _Okay_ , he thought, _Okay, Lance, what do you know? List it out. Number one…_

He knew that he’d woken up that day and stared at his farming tools for what felt like eons before turning his back on them, unable to pick even up even his sunhat.

He took in a deep, ragged breath.

_Number two…_

He knew that when he met up with Keith for their ‘Keith’s Pre-Mission Ritual’ consisting of hot tea and hair braiding and lots of laughter, he’d asked to go with him.

_“But don’t you have work to do on your farm?”_

_“I always have work to do on the farm. I’m bored, Keith. Take me out into space again.”_

_“You didn’t want to go last time I offered. What changed?”_

_“Last time was last time. This time is now. Please? I miss the stars.”_

_“…Okay. Okay, let’s go.”_

He stopped gripping at his legs.

_Number three…_

He knew that everything had gone smoothly. Their objective had just been to collect the neon blue tree nectar, though they weren’t quite sure why. Iit was simple and easy, and it was so nice to just talk and laugh and tease with each other. All they’d needed to do was load it up in the pod and fly back to the Base…

…But then Lance had seen the shimmer of a dagger in the foliage some feet away from where they’d been standing, where they’d been laughing and teasing and dancing around the _something_ that they’d been dancing around for nearly the entire time they’ve known each other.

His breath hitched.

_Number four…_

He hadn’t even let himself think. He didn’t wonder if it had been the trick of the planet’s two silver suns or if it had been a shiny fruit that they’d never seen before. He didn’t let himself question why he saw the glistening knife and not the bodies that were supposed to be attached to it. He didn’t remind himself that he was wearing nothing but a borrowed Blade flight suit, the armor left inside their ship.

He just dropped to the ground.

Because that dagger had been going straight for Keith’s neck. If Lance hadn’t jumped in time, Keith wouldn’t have ever made it to the area.

But the _If_ s don’t matter.

Keith _did_ make it to the arena. He survived. Lance made sure of that. Keith was _alive_.

Hopefully.

Lance clutched at his knees again.

_Number five…_

They’d fought. Barely. Lance tried to convince Keith that the only way for him to live was to kill Lance, but the stubborn ass refused to believe that. It was almost like he’d rather have died with Lance than live without him.

His chest tightened.

_Number six…_

He remembered lying on the dusty arena, the taste of blood in his mouth. He remembered Keith screaming, voice rough and raw, as metal clanged together and guns blasted lasers…

Oh, no.

No, dammit—Keith had been _fighting_. The idiot had charged at the guards instead of biding his time to escape and, oh god, Keith was going to _die_. Lance scarified himself for _nothing_ because Keith, the idiot, wasted it by charging headfirst and—

“Whoa, hey man, you need to calm down. You need to breathe.”

Keith—a younger, cleaner Keith from his memory—was kneeling in front of him, hovering. It looked like he wanted to touch him, but didn’t know if he should.

Lance tried to steady his breathing again, but he just kept seeing Keith, his Keith, bloody and broken on the floor of the arena. The arena covered in both their blood. They’d been fucking Paladins! They’d survived so much, and now they were both going to die? Just like that?!

“Breathe, man,” Younger Keith urged.

“I’m trying!”

He could hear the hysteria in his voice, feel the air closing in on him and squeezing. Squeezing until all the air was pushed out of his lungs, until it grasped around his throat, keeping him from gulping down fresh air.

All he could see was Keith, dead. All he could hear was Keith, screaming. All he could feel was the sheer terror knowing that he couldn’t do anything to stop it, not when he was already dying.

“C-Can’t breathe,” he gasped out, the words barely reaching his own ears. “Pa-ah-nic—”

He froze.

Someone was kissing him.

 _Keith_ was kissing him.

He was cupping Lance’s face and pressing their lips together and _kissing_ him.

 _What_?

After a few seconds, he pulled away. Lance stared at him, lips tingling.

He almost pushed himself off the floor, almost reached his hands out to grab at Keith’s shirt and pull him back in.

But the mullet stopped him.

The boy in front of him, he wasn’t Lance’s Keith.

Hell, he wasn’t even _a_ Keith! Him, the kiss, the school—was all an illusion his dying brain came up with! Just like the café was!

_‘Here ya go, Lance! You’re dying and it’s been, oh, almost a year-and-a-half since you stopped denying your silly little, unrequited crush, so take this! It’s a Keith that’s about the same age as the one who left earth with you and he’s **kissing** you! Isn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic?!’_

Thanks for that, brain. Love you too, you giant pain in the ass.

But then he realized something. 

“I-I’m okay!” he stuttered. “I can breathe again!”

Illusion or not, the panic attack had felt very, very real. (It was all in his head; of course, it felt real. Right?) So, being able to breathe, to inhale air into his lungs and expand his chest without imagining a python squeezing him tight—it was practically exhilarating. You forget how great breathing feels until you can’t do it for a hot minute.

(He also didn’t see Keith lying dead on the bathroom floor anymore, didn’t hear the echoes of his screams. That was another relief altogether.)

Younger Keith’s shoulders sagged, the tension leaving his body.

“Yeah, I…” Keith cleared his throat, cheeks slightly flushed. “I saw that on _Teen Wolf_.”

Lance blinked. “Um. What?”

“ _Teen Wolf_ ,” he repeated, looking slightly embarrassed. “You know, when Stiles had that panic attack and Lydia k-kissed him because holding your breath stops panic attacks…”

“I’ve…never heard about that show in my life.”

(And he didn’t know that kissing could stop panic attacks. So, how did this illusion know?)

“Oh. Well, um…”

“But thanks, man.” He gripped Keith’s arm, squeezing slightly. “I owe you one.”

“N-No problem, Lance!” Keith cleared his throat, cheeks red. “I-I mean, shit, I mean you’re Lance, right? Th-The sophomore.”

“Yeah, I’m La—”

Wait, he was _what_?

“I’m a _sophomore_?” he repeated, blinking stupidly. “In…In _high school_?”

Keith frowned. “No, in kindergarten. _Yes_ , in high school.”

Lance scrambled to his feet to stare at himself in the mirror. Yeah, that was definitely his younger, mid-teen looking face. No Altean marks, no scars, no bags under his eyes…and also a few pimples on his face. (Gross.)

“High school,” he mumbled. “A café and now a high school.”

“Um, what?”

Keith was standing now too. His frown deepened as he watched Lance hesitantly through the mirror, like he was worried that maybe Lance would have another panic attack. Or mental breakdown.

(And honestly, Lance wouldn’t be surprised if he did.)

Turning around quickly, Lance leaned against the counter, feigning nonchalance in a hopefully believable way.

“Nothing, nothing. Everything’s totally fine, Keith. I’m fine. Sorry to make you worry…or not worry,” he corrected himself, because this wasn’t his Keith. This was an illusion. Or maybe a not-illusion, he wasn't sure yet, but regardless, the boy in front of him wasn’t _his_ Keith. “Sorry to bother you. I’m completely fine and I’m going now.”

But Keith took a step forward, his arm reaching out.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft.

Lance was already halfway out the door.

“Yep, totally sure. Bye!”

But he paused. Illusion or maybe-not-illusion, it still _felt_ real. He couldn’t just rudely brush off not-his Keith just because he, well, wasn’t his Keith and was probably—like a 99.9% type of probably—just a made-up figment in Lance’s dying brain.

Flashing a blinding smile, he looked over his shoulder and said, “But seriously, Keith. Thank you for helping me. I really do appreciate it.”

As he walked out the door, he didn’t see Keith’s blush nor hear his surprised whisper, “I didn’t think you knew my name…”

Lance turned in the opposite direction of the way he came, thinking hard.

So far, he’s had two panic attacks that felt very real. (Two panic attacks stopped by two different Keiths.) Both happened in different places, at different times of him arriving. They were even in different _bodies_. Sure, the brain could make things feel real and everything happening could be another subconsciously created illusion…

Or.

Or maybe it could be…

…another reality altogether.

He knew other universes existed—hell, he’d _been_ to another universe! Almost got killed there, had it not been for Sven.

Maybe his subconscious wasn’t _creating_ different scenarios for him to live in as he died. Maybe the universe was _sending_ him to different alternate realities. Maybe this was the universe’s way of thanking him for saving it. He could live out the rest of his short life in different realities, feeling no pain.

 _So long as Keith lives_ , he thought to himself. _Please, universe, if this is your doing, please don’t let Keith die._

But how could he be sure this was indeed another reality and not just his brain?

Somehow, he found in front of the classroom he’d hastily retreated from. (Damn, this was a small school.) Stopping his pacing, he stared at the door. Should he go back in? If this was an illusion in his brain, then it wouldn’t matter. If this was another universe, then…well, he wasn’t really sure what that meant.

Ultimately, he decided to go in. There was nowhere else to go. He could feel all the students’ eyes staring at him, shocked he’d dared to return.

“Nice to have you back, Mr. McClain.” The teacher grabbed a comically large shoe, painted white with flowers on it. “You forgot the hall pass.”

“…Oops?”

The class erupted in a fit of giggles.

Her nostrils flared. “Sit down, Mr. McClain, before you get a week’s worth of detention.”

He almost asked, “ _For what?_ ” but instead, he shrugged and walked back to his seat without a word.

Doodling in his notebook, he completely tuned the teacher out and ignored the concerned looks Hunk and Pidge directed towards him.

Different reality or brain illusion. Which one could he be in? On one hand, he would’ve never decided to make himself believe he was in high school or the owner of a café; those were definitely _not_ his happy places. On the other hand, his brain was currently dying, so he wasn’t really in the most logical state of mind.

Speaking of illogical…

Why would he imagine Keith kissing him? He was already dying, there was no need to be masochistic. He knew Keith didn’t feel the same way. Not after the way Lance treated him when they were younger, forcing a toxic rivalry between them all because Keith didn’t pay the tiniest bit of attention to him. Not after the way Keith treated him when he came back from the Quantum Abyss, pushing him aside like clone-Shiro had, dismissing him like he was useless.

_“Lance, I’m not letting you die…I **can’t** kill you, Lance, I can’t… **My** future…Lance, I lo—”_

He shoved those memories back down quicker than Pidge’s sprint when she would see the latest technological prototype gadget thing.

The cycle continued—

Was this all in his head, or was he in a different reality? Why did it seem like he and Keith were interconnected somehow? _“Lance, I lo—”_ Nope, shoving that down.

—Over and over and over again.

The one thing he knew for certain, though, was that he wasn’t going to tell anyone else. If this was his brain, he didn’t want to put any more stress on it by voicing aloud what it didn’t want him to be thinking about. If this was another reality, he didn’t want to bring the wrong kind of attention to the other Lance and potentially land him in some serious trouble.

(Did he land the café Lance in some serious trouble? It sounded like the conversation, the universe there, was continuing even after he…sank? …swayed? Even after he left it.)

_BRRRRRINGGGGG_

Lance jumped at the sound of the high-pitching ringing. It took him a second to realize it was the school bell, dismissing them from class.

“Thank god it’s lunch,” Hunk groaned, standing to stretch and shove his books into his backpack. Then, quieter, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay, dude? You looked really panicked earlier.”

“I’m fine,” he assured, hoping it sounded genuine. “I’m just ready for lunch too.”

It didn’t seem like either Hunk nor Pidge believed him, but they didn’t comment on it. Instead, they started complaining about the homework assignment they’d just been given; Lance followed them to their lockers, making noncommittal noises here and there. Then, without any prompting, the three of them started walking to Lance’s locker, now complaining about how far it was from their own.

Lance wasn’t sure if he should be surprised to find Keith rummaging through the locker next to his.

“Hey,” he greeted, nodding his head.

Keith stared at him, his mouth forming a small, surprised ‘O’. His wide eyes darted between the three of them for a few seconds before he just walked away without saying a word, slightly blushing.

“Huh. Weird.”

“You got that right,” Pidge agreed, her arms crossed. “Since when do you talk to _him_? I thought it was _Mullet this_ and _Junior that_ and _stupid fingerless gloves_? And, seriously, what was all that about in class?”

“Oh, uh…earlier? That was… That was nothing. I told you,” Lance quickly backtracked. “Just ready for lunch. And just now, with Keith was…uh…I…I just totally forgot what Keith looked like. Is all. I thought… Thought that was someone else…”

“Uh-huh… Okay, so that was the worst lie I ever heard,” she said, narrowing her gaze. “And you just said his name! When did you even find out his name?”

“I-It’s a small school,” he defended.

“Maybe it’s cuz you’re hungry?” Hunk suggested, eyes darting between the both of them. Now that was familiar: Hunk hating conflict. “Come on, let’s have lunch.”

His lunch happened to be his favorite: papa rellena with garlic knots. Cooked to perfection, just like how his mama would make it. The lunch period went by quickly, but by the end of it, he’d learned that he was on a small coastal town (Pidge kept complaining about how Matt didn’t want to drive her the near hour-and-a-half into the city on Saturday) and the three of them had become friends at the beginning of freshman year, when no one else seemed to want to befriend the new Cuban kid, the weird child genius, or the outcast who’s mom left his dad for a younger man.

Finally, after two more classes, it was the end of the day. He stood outside the school, waving Pidge goodbye as her brother came to pick her up. Just as she left, he got a text.

**_ Mama <3  _ **

**_[2:37 PM] Working late. Please find someone to take you to swim practice. Love you._ **

****

Swim practice? Where the hell could that be?

“Are you going to have another panic attack?”

Lance jumped, turning around to see Keith frowning at him.

“Fuck, dude, you scared me.” He sighed. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for asking though.”

At that, Keith seemed to frown even more. After a pause, he asked, “Are you… Um, are you waiting for someone? Or something.”

“Well,” Lance shrugged, waving his phone. “I was waiting for my mom, but apparently she can’t pick me up. You don’t happen to know where my swim practice would be, would you?”

Keith was silent for a long time, staring at him as if he could extract all the answers to the universe if he squinted hard enough.

Just before Lance could tell him to forget about it, he said, “Okay, I give up. What’s going on?”

It was Lance’s turn to frown.

“…What do you mean?”

The leveled look he received was so utterly _Keith_ , he couldn’t help but shiver a bit.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say _what_?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You are. You’re really going to make me say it.”

Illusion or not-illusion, it seemed every Keith was infuriating as hell as a teenager.

“I really have _no idea_ what you’re trying to get at,” Lance insisted.

“We don’t talk. We insult each other and pick fights, but we don’t _talk_.” Keith crossed his arms, looking vulnerable at his next words. “I get it, I’m the new kid. I’m an orphan and I’m gay and I’m _creepy_ —” he said it like someone else told him that…Lance hoped it hadn’t been him “—but you’re acting like you _know_ me. Today, I mean. Well, today before lunch. You’re really acting like you know me and we’re friends and we most certainly weren’t yesterday or even this morning, so what the fuck is going on?”

Lance blinked. He waited a few moments, but Keith was still staring at him expectantly. He sighed.

“I…I’m not actually sure,” he admitted. Crossing his arms protectively around himself, he sat down on the pavement. Thankfully, it seemed everyone cleared out the school pretty quickly after classes ended. Even the teachers were nowhere to be seen. Must be how small schools in small towns work, or at least this one. “I’ve been trying to figure it out all afternoon actually.”

Hesitantly, Keith sat down beside him.

“Figure what out?” he prompted. 

Good question.

“My life?”

Keith snorted. “Isn’t everybody?”

He fell silent for a few seconds, staring at Lance from out of the corner of his eye.

Finally, he said softly, “Maybe I can help.”

Maybe he could. But Lance had already decided not to say anything this time.

Except…

If this _was_ his brain, maybe it was offering him a way to process everything? If it wasn’t…how much harm could he do, really?

“Well, it’s going to sound really crazy,” he began. 

“Try me.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay… So, it started this morning. On my farm…”

After he finished, Keith was silent for a long while afterwards.

Finally, he asked, “You…You really think that? That you’re…dying on a different planet and this is all your subconscious projecting you here?”

“That or a different reality.” Lance shrugged. “I’m not really sure which yet.”

Keith frowned. “So, your panic attack earlier…”

He blushed. “I was thinking of you…well, my-you, lying out in the area, dying because you’re just too damn stubborn for your own good.”

“But you said you told me—” Keith shook his head slightly, as if it would help make sense of all the information Lance had just bombarded him with. “Uh, I mean told him to kill you.”

He nodded. “Yeah, so that way you’d be sure to live. He’d be sure to live. Keith’s a great fighter. He could’ve been the champion, easy.”

Quietly, Keith admitted, “I don’t think I could kill you, if we were friends.”

“No, you couldn’t. I had to throw myself on your sword,” he reminded, sighing again.

Keith hummed. He was quiet for a long time, looking out toward the empty parking lot, head resting on his arms, which were crossed atop his pulled-up knees.

It was calming being with him, even if it might not even be real.

Finally, Keith spoke again, his voice soft. “My mother died giving birth to me. She didn’t have anyone with her. No family, no friends. I don’t even know who my real father is.”

Lance wanted to reach out and squeeze Keith’s hand reassuringly, but he didn’t know if that would be welcome. He remained silent.

“I’ve been in foster home after foster home and school after school. I probably won’t even last my full junior year here. I’m surprised I made it three months, really. After all, I’m a delinquent and gay and people in this town don’t like those things, especially the teachers here.”

The teacher from his math class was probably one of them, Lance guessed. She seemed like the type.

“I hate it and I wish my life was different, but,” he turned to face Lance. “It’s real. It’s my reality. My life.”

He couldn’t help the small smile that touched his lips. “Keith Kogane, are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“I…” Keith seemed startled at hearing his full name, but he pressed on. “I’m _saying_ that even if you are somehow a different Lance, this place _exists_. It’s an…alternate reality, or whatever.”

“And how can I be sure of that—”

For the second time, Keith leaned in and kissed him, except this time, he was slowly moving his lips against Lance’s. It was a bit awkward, as if he’d never really made out with anyone before, but it wasn’t horrible. It was pretty nice actually, for a teenage, very first kiss.

“Is—Is that real enough for you?” Keith whispered, his lips still grazing Lance’s.

“Uh…” Lance could feel himself blushing. He started leaning back in, just an inch, but then he felt himself swaying. “Oh, no.”

Keith pulled away, looking crestfallen and heartbroken and embarrassed all in one.

“No, no,” Lance backtracked quickly, reaching out to grip Keith’s arms even as he felt himself sinking within his body. His vision grew hazy. “No, I’m leaving.”

“You’re leaving?” Keith repeated, sounding hurt and confused wrapped into one. “What does that—”

“I was telling the truth I swear,” was the last thing Lance said, his voice sounding garbled in his ears, before he was completely submerged.

He heard himself say, in the same breath, “Uh, what’s going on?” before everything went black and silent.

He didn’t even have time to wonder what would happen next before he was waking up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I really love this universe I created here in this chapter, and I, uh, kinda have a follow up fic planned for it…It’s not written down anywhere yet, but I have a 25 minute voice memo of me verbalizing what all I want to include in it. But basically, these boys get a happy klance ending…eventually. 
> 
> Also, just an FYI, it wasn’t Lance who called Keith creepy, and the reason why Lance doesn’t like Keith isn’t because he’s gay, but because *lowkey spoiler for what I’m going to eventually, sometime in the future, write* Lance had been struggling with bringing in something heavy into some shop and he asked for Keith’s help with it, but because Keith walks with headphones in and stares resolutely at the ground to avoid eye contact, he hadn’t heard Lance. (This was shortly after he'd arrived in town.) Lance didn’t see the earbuds, so he assumed Keith was a jerk and when he saw him at school the following week, he decided he wasn’t going to find out anything about the boy who so rudely brushed him off.
> 
> \--
> 
> Up Next:  
> Mermaid AU **slight nsfw**  
>  Hogwarts AU  
> Parent AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	4. See the World Through Jellyfish Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mermaid AU
> 
> Or: Lance Has an Epiphany And a Hand Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of Lance and Keith kinda looking [like this tumblr post](https://bluebananabowtie.tumblr.com/post/185678948294/paladinbluespace-klanceaumonth-day-3), which is not my art fyi. 
> 
> FYI:  
> 1) There some Hidge (Punk??) in this so if that's not your cup of tea, sorry, but it's an AU so ‾\\_(ツ)_/‾  
> 2) At end of this fic is where the rating comes into play with some mermaid hand jobs （☆ω☆*）
> 
> ENJOY!!!

“Lance, wake up,” someone whispered in his ear. “You’re going to miss it!”

Blearily, he opened his eyes. Why was everything so…pink? And ripple-y? He yawned, rubbing his eyes. Maybe that would help. For good measure, he stretched, arching and twisting his back until he heard several pops and cracks. His body relaxed as a pleasant feeling settled in his bones.

“Hmm,” he hummed, nuzzling whatever-it-was that he was lying against.

He was still in sleep’s clutches and couldn’t remember why he thought he needed to wake up just a few seconds ago.

“ _Lance_!”

He jerked his head up, looking for the source. All he could see was…still pink. Why was he surrounded by pink? He smacked his lips, contemplating on whether or not he should ask the omniscient voice just that, but before he could, someone grabbed his hand and pulled.

“Come on, let’s go!”

The voice—the person—dragged him through the pink anemone and out into the water, grumbling about how Lance’s lazy tail was going to make them late for—

Wait, _what_?

 _Anemone_? **_Water_**?

Lance rubbed his eyes again, which was slightly difficult with only one free hand, and finally took in the scene before him with clear vision.

His jaw dropped.

Yes, anemone. Yes, water.

Lance was _underwater_ and _breathing_. The person holding his hand had webbed fingers and red scales climbing up their back and arms…

…and a fucking tail. Not like a dog’s tail; it was a _mermaid_ tail. Red and scaly and very powerful.

Keith—it was _Keith_ in front of him, and maybe he should’ve been more surprised than he actually was—glanced back at him, frowning. 

“Quit making me do all the work, you guppy. Swim!”

He blinked, momentarily distracted by the _sharp_ , _pointed teeth_ in Keith’s mouth. When Keith looked away, Lance’s eyes caught sight of the scales on his own arm. Rather than the fiery red that was on Keith’s arm, his were sky blue. He didn’t seem to have any arm hair either, just blue scales that clustered around his wrist before sparsely moving up to his shoulder, where they clustered again. A few small clusters decorated his chest. Further down, was his own powerful, sky blue scaly tail where his legs should be. 

“Uh, right…” he mumbled, blinking the sleep away. “Swim.”

“This was _your_ idea,” Keith reminded and Lance could practically feel his eyeroll through the water. “I can’t believe you’re dragging your fins.”

“Just…tired…” he said lamely.

First a café, then a high school, now underwater. As mermaids. Actual living, breathing, swimming mermaids.

Either he losing it from the lack of oxygen to his brain, or he really was traveling different realities.

What was it that Keith had said at the high school?

_“It’s real. It’s my reality. My life…This place **exists**.”_

That high school had existed, at least it had for that Keith. And, apparently, this underwater, mermaid-filled place existed too.

Taking a deep breath—which was so weird to do underwater, especially because he could feel the gills ( _gills_!) on his neck and sides of his chest filtering the oxygen—Lance relaxed his mind and swam.

Just like before at the café, when he didn’t try to think too hard about what he was doing, his body seemed to know instinctively. He glided through the water with ease, as if he’d been born in it.

And maybe he had been.

Well, maybe this body had been.

Maybe he really _was_ traveling to other realities.

Because there was no way his brain could’ve come up with something like this. Sure, mermaids were awesome, and if he could, he’d totally want to be one, but ever since visiting the Frozen Planet, he imagined mermaids more like that. Having a smooth blubber-like texture covering their body, tails and all, with iris-less eyes. But the mermaid in front of him looked nothing like that. He was too...humanoid. Minus a few scaly, red patches covering his back, arms, and chest, everything above Keith’s tail, which started low on his hips, was pale flesh. Granted, he did also have sharp teeth and fin-like ears, but his hair and eyes looked the same as they did in Lance’s own reality.

The image of Keith, his Keith, fighting the arena guards came unbidden to his mind. He remembered hearing him screaming and swords clashes. Blaster were going off too, he recalled. Lance had killed himself so Keith could live, but that idiot—

 _Stop_ , he told himself. _Stop it, don’t think that_. It was Keith. He’ll be fine. He always turned out fine in the end. He always survived _._

_You better survive, asshole._

“Hunk and Pidge said they’d meet us there,” this Keith said, startling him out of his thoughts. “We can’t let them beat us to it.”

“Obviously not.”

Looking back again, Keith grinned, showing off his sharp teeth.

“There’s my little angelfish. Are you finally awake?”

 _Angelfish_?

“Y-Yeah, sorry it took a while.”

“We had a long night,” and the glint in Keith’s eyes told Lace that he really should’ve known what happened last night, except for the fact that the last time he was awake, he was in a small town and was a high schooler. 

He smirked back in response, afraid of speaking and making it very clear that he had no idea what kind of long night he and Keith apparently had. He’d just following along with whatever was happening around him. Yeah, that should be safe…hopefully.

They swam the rest of the way in silence, but now Keith was swimming beside him instead of in front. They were also still holding hands (holding fins? webbed fingers?) and Lance couldn’t stop the glee from rising in his chest. Whatever this reality (or not-reality, that was still a possibility) was, it was one where he was a _mermaid_ and Keith’s _angelfish_ , and he and Keith were _holding hands_. Pretty decent reality. 

They passed by coral reefs and swarms of fish and giant boulders that Lance swore looked like they were closed market shops. 

“We’re here,” Keith whispered as they reached a large canyon. He frowned as he saw the two figures ahead of them. “Dammit, they beat us.”

“You’re late, minnows!” Pidge called out, waving.

Lance had to avert his eyes for a moment as they got closer because, holy shit, Pidge wasn’t wearing any sort of shirt! Like him and Keith, she had lime green scales decorating her chest and arms, but it wasn’t like the movies—nothing was covering her…well, her nipples. He loved that girl like a sister, and like his sisters, he never wanted to see _that_ part of her.

Even if this wasn’t his Pidge and boobs were just fattier man pecs, it still felt weird to him.

“ _Someone_ didn’t want to wake up,” Keith said, nudging Lance’s arm. 

“Don’t worry, it hasn’t started yet, so we’re fine.” Hunk sighed dreamily, swishing his scaly, yellow tail back and forth. “Oh, this is going to be so romantic...”

Pidge swam up to him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re such a blubber fish.”

Wait, hold on, back up. 

Pidge just _kissed_ Hunk. 

And Hunk said that this would be _romantic_. 

( _And_ Keith hasn’t stopped _holding his hand_ since he woke up!)

There was absolutely no way his subconscious came up with this scenario. Hunk and Pidge? Not in his reality! Which meant…oh god, that meant…

“I _am_ traveling realities,” he whispered, saying it aloud because if he didn’t, he might not believe it.

“Hmm? What did you say?” Keith asked leaning his head against Lance’s shoulder. 

“Nothing,” he answered quickly.

If this wasn’t in his subconscious, then he didn’t want to say something and ruin the relationships of those around him. He dared not think of the ruin he caused in the other universes.

(Oh, god, what happened to high school Keith when the real Lance returned to his body?!)

Hastily, he added, “I just remembered that I’m super hungry is all.”

“We’ll eat after,” Keith assured. “Once the jellyfish are done.”

“Right. After the jellyfish…”

He had no idea what that meant, but he didn’t have to wait long. After the four of them dove into the canyon, which opened up into a giant fishbowl-like (heh, _fish_ bowl) cavern after a few…uh, a few feet? miles? He wasn’t sure how far they swam; their tails were seriously powerful. There, floating leisurely at the bottom of the canyon was a giant field full of glowing jellyfish. 

It was almost like that one episode of SpongeBob. 

Once they reached the bottom, they only had to wait a few more minutes before the jellyfish started swimming up to the top of the canyon. 

It was strangely exhilarating, watching them basically dance around each other and the few other mermaids in the field. 

Lance almost felt sorry for the other Lance that was missing it. 

“Hey,” Keith whispered in his ear. He was holding onto Lance’s waist, his chin resting on Lance’s shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It’s _amazing_.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off it. The jellyfish didn’t even sting him, so whenever one was close enough, he reached his arm out and tentatively brushed the creatures as they lazily made their way out of the cave.

Keith was nuzzling his neck, where his gills fluttered.

“ _You’re_ amazing,” he murmured.

Not knowing what else to say, Lance joked, “I mean, yeah, obvio—”

Keith was kissing him again.

Or, well, this Keith was kissing him for the first time. 

And unlike either of the times when high school Keith was kissing him, this mermaid Keith knew _exactly_ what he was doing. The kiss was slow and measured and involved lots of tongue. Keith’s webbed hands were splayed out on Lance’s lower stomach, half on his tail and half on his skin. His thumbs were sliding over the part where his scaly tail met his soft flesh, and it felt really fucking good.

Lance shivered. This was what he’d wanted since…well, since his Garrison days, if he was being honest. Even though he’d vehemently denied having any sort of crush on Keith whenever Hunk would tease him for it, the fact remained that he’d been hopelessly and irrevocably attracted to his self-proclaimed rival. Despite everything that had (and hadn’t) happened between them, despite the forced relationship he’d had with Allura, convincing himself that he loved her in more-than-a-friend-type way, he never stopped liking Keith, _wanting_ Keith.

Even when Keith left for the Blade, which had been right after Lance had accepted that he was bi and may or may not have had an attraction of for a certain raven-haired, Galra-human hybrid teammate, Lance still found himself thinking, dreaming, of Keith. Honestly, he should’ve stopped; after all, Keith had abandoned them. After everything they’d gone through together as a team, he ditched them, like it meant nothing. After everything they’d gone through together as a pair, he ditched Lance, like he meant nothing.

And when Keith had returned, brushing him off with a, _“I don’t have time for this, Lance!”_ Lance had sworn to himself that he was going to forget about that stupid crush. He’d thrown himself at Allura’s feet. Convinced himself he loved her.

When Keith had scoffed, arms crossed and voice hard, saying, _“I just don’t want to be stuck here for eternity with Lance,”_ Lance knew, from the sharp stabbing feeling of his heart that he had not actually gotten over Keith.

He probably couldn’t ever get over him.

Kinda pathetic, if he thought about it.

So, he didn’t think about it. He pretended he was fine, pretended that being just friends with Keith was enough, pretended that their get-togethers were only platonic and nothing more and that he was okay with it.

But he wasn’t there anymore.

He was here, in this reality, where Keith…Keith _wanted_ him. Where Keith was _kissing_ him.

And what would be the harm in indulging a little bit? Sue him for wanting to kiss the man of his dreams while he still could.

Besides, if he didn’t, surely this Keith would realize something was wrong. 

He turned around in Keith’s arms so that they were chest to chest. Their tails curled around each other. Keith’s hands moved down to where Lance’s human ass would’ve been and slid over Lance’s scales. Lance moved his own hands into Keith’s hair and tugged experimentally. It elicited the response he didn’t realize he had desperately wanted to hear, a deep, low moan. His tail tightened around Lance’s, pressing them closer together and grinding his hips into Lance’s.

Lance filed that little fact away: Keith clearly loved having his hair pulled.

(He didn’t remind himself that he was dying and probably couldn’t do anything about that information anyway, if it he weren’t dying, but he filed it away nonetheless.) 

“Hey, leeches,” Pidge called out after a while. “The jellyfish are all gone.”

Keith pulled away with a grumble. Lance felt dizzy from the loss of contact.

“How did you enjoy the show?” Keith called out, laughing as he hugged Lance closer to his body. 

“Which one?” she teased back, smirking. 

Hunk was snickering behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. His lips were red and puffy and Lance seriously did _not_ want to think about his two friends making out, not when the Hunk of his reality was dating Shay and the Pidge of his reality was as asexual as you could get. 

“I’m ready for breakfast,” Hunk called out. Ah, some things could never change. “Who’s with me?”

“Me, obviously,” Pidge said, kissing his cheek. 

“Us too,” Keith said, swimming closer to them, holding Lance’s hand again.

They looked to Lance. 

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

He started swimming back up the canyon. Within seconds, Keith was by his side, laughing and bumping his shoulders. 

They went back the way they came, and Lance had been right: the rocks were indeed little shops and the place was now crawling with other mermaids. 

Lance looked at the food they were serving and felt a little queasy. He loved sushi, but this was all a little too much. He wasn’t even sure what most of the things were! It _almost_ looked like it could’ve been served in Disney’s _The Little Mermaid_ and _The Little Mermaid II_ , which he’s unashamed to admit he’s watched more times than he can count.

However, no one seemed to notice his apprehension at taking a bite of the weird black spaghetti-tentacle things or the purple blobs of squishy circles. Granted, when he did take a bite, he found it (whatever it was) to be delicious, and he proceeded to stuff his face until his stomach protested at the thought of even just _thinking_ about more.

For the rest of the morning, he swam and laughed and chatted about the shark migrations with Keith, Hunk, and Pidge as if he did it every day. He even waved to a few other mermaids who would call out after him, waving their webbed hands in greeting.

“Okay, I think it’s time for a nap,” Hunk finally said, yawning. Pidge was dozing off by his side. “We got up extra early to beat you two there.”

“Well, it certainly paid off.” Keith laughed, his own head resting on Lance’s shoulder. “But yeah, I’m tired too. Ready to go home?”

He was looking at Lance. ( _Home_?) He blinked expectedly, waiting for Lance to answer. ( _Home_?!)

“Y-Yeah,” he agreed, smiling softly and hoping that he wasn’t actually blushing as red as he felt he was. “Let’s go home.”

(He and Keith had a _home_ together??!)

After exchanging goodbye, he and Keith swam back, hand-in-hand, towards the anemone that Lance had woken up in. It was big—giant really. He wondered how far down in the ocean they were. Or if they were even on earth…maybe they were on a different planet in this reality’s universe. Did humans live somewhere above them? Perhaps they’re considered to be mythical, fantasy-creatures, like mermaids were in his universe.

As he swam through the tentacles, he eyed the center of the anemone carefully. Sure, he’d grown up wanting to reach the stars, but he’d always had two loved in his life, and when he wasn’t certain if he’d be accepted into the Garrison, he had begun pursuing his second love a little more thoroughly: the ocean.

So, he knew quite a bit about sea anemones. For example, they ate their prey with their central mouths, located right in the middle of their being, behind all the tentacles. This wasn’t _Finding Nemo_ ; Lance was pretty sure if he got too close to the mouth, he’d be gobbled up like Sunday’s dinner. 

But Keith didn’t seem to pay the mouth any mind. Plus, the anemone was so large, they could lounge around in the tentacles, and still be several feet away from the vastness of the ocean’s open waters. He couldn’t even see past the pink tentacles from where he was.

Maybe anemones didn’t eat mermaids? Maybe mermaids caused them, like, indigestion or something.

Still, Lance didn’t feel like getting too close to the central mouth, just in case.

“You don’t seem too tired,” Keith hummed curling into Lance’s side as they settled down. His head rested against Lance’s chest.

“N-Neither do you…”

Could he hear Lance’s wildly beating heart?

“Well, I’m not, really,” he teased before capturing Lance’s lips again. 

Fuck, this was becoming really dangerous. 

Lance did _not_ want to stop kissing Keith. Ever.

Good thing (bad thing? no, definitely _good thing_ ) Keith didn’t seem to want to stop kissing him either. At first, it was calm. They held each other gently, their lips moving together slowly, but soon, Keith started to get agitated. The soft, slow kisses turned into something else, something much more heated. Keith shifted until Lance was being pressed down into the anemone, held by Keith’s body weight. The tongue that had been exploring his mouth disappeared, but it wasn’t long before Keith’s mouth attached itself back to Lance. He moaned, arching as he felt Keith’s teeth scrape against his neck.

This was like something out of a wet dream—Keith pinning him down and kissing him hard, leaving bruises on his neck and hips. Though, to be honest, the mermaid tails weren’t usually part of his wet dreams.

“Ready for round two?” Keith asked, voice low and gravelly. His lips were still on Lance’s neck and the vibrations were just enough to have him squirm, but not enough to keep him squirming. “Not too sore, are you?”

“S-Sore?” he repeated, trying not to sound as confused as he felt.

He wasn’t sure if he succeeded because just then, he felt Keith’s hands move from his hips to the front of his tail and his entire being shuddered as a moan ripped from his throat.

Keith’s hands were rubbing him in _just the right spot_ , thumbs swiping and digging expertly, and Lance really couldn’t concentrate on anything else but that.

“From last night,” Keith clarified, nibbling at his neck again.

Suddenly, Lance recognized the feeling bubbling in his gut and he realized _exactly_ what Keith had been doing. He watched, partly in awe and partly in horror, as a glowing blue tentacle-like _thing_ emerged from a slit hidden away in the upper portion of his tail, where his groin would be had he still had legs. It only took him a moment to figure out exactly what it was.

It was a mermaid dick. 

It was _his_ mermaid dick.

And Keith was _touching_. _it_.

“ _Shit_ ,” he moaned out, head falling back and hips jerking upwards. 

“Oh, you like that?” Keith teased, his voice still low and raspy and hot and it should seriously be illegal how good he sounded like that.

Keith’s hands worked expertly at the tentacle, rubbing and pulling it, letting his nails graze it _just so_ , as if he already knew everything Lance liked.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said, whining when Keith’s lip reattached to his neck.

This was probably what Keith had meant when he’d said they had a long night last night, he realized distantly. If last night had been like this or better, then Lance really, really wished he could’ve been there for that.

“Cum for me, angelfish,” Keith urged, and fucking hell did that go straight to Lance’s dick. Which Keith could tell, since he was _holding_ it. With a deep chuckle, he repeated, “Yeah, angelfish, that’s it. _Cum for me_ …”

And then the most awful thing to ever happen happened. 

Just as Lance was feeling his climax rise, he felt himself sway. 

_Not now_ , he thought desperately. He tried to focus on Keith’s tongue in his mouth, Keith’s hand jerking him off, Keith’s tail wrapped possessively around his own, but it was too late. He was already sinking back into the darkness. 

Lance could still hear himself moaning, but he didn’t feel anything anymore. He was vaguely aware of the flittering pulse of a climax, but it wasn’t his. He was back in the empty, black void again.

Back to feeling nothing, but the faint irritation of not being able to finish. He realized he hadn’t even gotten to see Keith’s mermaid dick, and before he could scream into the void, shouting obesities about how unfair it was—he was dying after all, and a chance like this wasn’t bound to happen again soon—he was waking up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Up:  
> Hogwarts AU  
> Parent AU (based on my Ohama Means Family series)  
> Avatar: The Last Airbender AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	5. There’s Something So Magic About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU!!
> 
> Or: Lance Is Basically Hermione and It Is V Concerning to His Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some masturbation in the first part! ;) It’s not too graphic though, and that’s the only really 18+ thing in this chapter... :/ 
> 
> (Sorry, if you wanted more. Soon though!)

Lance woke up painfully, achingly hard. He couldn’t feel Keith’s touch on his body or kiss on his lips, but he remembered it. Mostly. It was like waking up with a dream on the tip of your tongue, a vague imprint of feelings and ideas swirling around your head, but completely unable to translate the memory into understandable words.

God, how he wanted to feel it again, to have Keith’s hand on his and lips on his…and there was only one way he could do that from wherever he was now.

Hurriedly, he glanced around the room, dismayed to see three other bedposts with three sleeping heads residing in them.

The place looked strangely familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

He didn’t really care to place it. Not yet at least.

Quietly, he slipped his hand into the waistband of his pants and grasped his hard, aching, very human-like cock. Curling on his side, facing away from the other boys, he pressed his face into the pillows and covered his mouth with his fist. His other hand started moving, up and down, as quickly and quietly as he could muster. 

He thought about mermaid Keith with his webbed fingers and sharp teeth. How his lips felt on his neck and his hands on his dick. How his tail curled around his own and his tongue licked into his mouth.

He thought about the kiss in the parking lot that he shared with high school Keith. How cute and shy Keith had been, his kiss reflecting his inexperience but also his desperation, his enthusiasm.

He thought about café Keith, who looked positively adorable in that big, red sweater. How warm his hands had been on his chest. If only it had just been the two of them, and Lance hadn’t been having a panic attack. Keith’s warm hands could’ve slid down his chest, into his pants…

He thought about his Keith. How infuriatingly smart and handsome he’d been when they were in the Garrison together. How safe and trusted he’d felt around Keith when he’d been piloting Black and Lance was his second in Red. He remembered how hot Keith had looked in the Blade’s uniform, even if watching him leave had hurt in ways he was still recovering from. He remembered Keith playing with his hair in the cell.

And he remembered…lips. On his forehead.

Did Keith kiss him?

Lance came with a muffled shout.

He froze when one of the boys groaned and turned around in his bed, but there wasn’t an accusatory scream or a mocking shout. No one stirred.

As silently as possible, Lance wiped his hands on the sheets and crept out of bed and into the hall, hoping to find a bathroom and some answers as to where he was.

“Master Lance?”

Lance startled at his name, turning around quickly and hiding his hands behind his back. But no one was there.

“You’re up rather early, Master Lance, is anything the matter?”

Slowly, his eyes wondered down. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

“ _Dobby_?” he squeaked out.

The house elf—the _house elf_ —frowned. “No, my name is Ketty, Master Lance. But Ketty appreciates you trying to remember her name.”

“R-Right. Sorry…Ketty,” he stuttered.

“Oh, there you are,” someone grumbled from behind her.

Lance looked back up to find, get ready, this is a big shock here, Keith.

(His dick twitched half-heartedly, remembering how he had just finished jerking off to this very man, but the Keith before him was much younger than the others had been. He wore nothing but loose sweatpants, and his bare chest was lacking in both hair and muscle; this Keith couldn’t have been older than thirteen or fourteen, and _that_ little fact quickly killed Lance’s dick’s faint reinterest in seconds.)

Keith rubbed at his eyes, his bedhead causing his hair to stand up at odd, awkward angles. Frankly, it was adorable and Lance wanted to run up this Keith and pinch his cheeks, like he would with his nieces and nephews.

“Why are you awake so early?” he asked, voice still full of asleep.

Ketty gave a little bow and disappeared in a cloud of magic.

“I…” Lance stared at the spot. Magic. House elf. _Magic._ He was in Harry Potter. “I’m in Hogwarts.”

Keith—no, no, _Harry Potter_ Keith—frowned. “Um, yeah? You’ve been here for about three years now.”

Three years…? So, he was…thirteen? Yes, thirteen. What did Harry Potter do in his third year?

“Huh?” Keith cocked his head. “Who’s Harry Potter?”

Shit, he’d said that last part out loud.

“No one. Nothing. Not important,” he backtracked quickly. “I was just…uh…dreaming.”

“Right…”

“And, um, sleepwalking. You woke me up.”

Keith looked at him like he didn’t believe a word Lance had said, but honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Lance was in _Hogwarts_. Sure, he was dying, but at least he was dying in _Hogwarts_!

Without thinking, he starting mumbling one of the songs from _A Very Potter Musical_ as he looked around the hall again, taking everything in.

“I gotta get back to Hogwarts~ I gotta get back to school~ I gotta get myself to Hogwarts~”

“What the hell are you mumbling about?”

Lance shut his mouth. “Nothing.”

Silently, he finished the verse in his head: _Where everything is magi-cool~_

For a moment, it looked like Keith was going to call Lance out on his bullshit, but then he sighed.

“Is it about DADA?” he asked quietly. “Professor Alfor said it’ll be perfectly safe.”

Professor… _Alfor_?

“Yeah,” he said, his mind racing, unable to come up with a better excuse that wasn’t the truth. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m just a little…nervous?”

“It’ll be fine,” Keith assured. Then he jerked his head. “Come on, we might as well get ready for the day. Breakfast starts in an hour.”

Breakfast. Lance bubbled in excitement as he followed Keith back to their room. He’d never been _this_ excited for breakfast before, but this would be breakfast in the _great hall_ of _Hogwarts_! Who would he see? Where would he sit?!

Before he could wonder which house he was in, he opened the trunk at the foot of his bed (which was bigger on the inside!) and found it filled with red and gold. Gryffindor.

When he looked at the nightstand beside his bed, he found his _wand_. He couldn’t wait to use it!

“You wanna shower first?” Keith asked, pointing behind himself towards the wall, where an outline of a hidden door was.

Ah, so that was where the bathroom was.

“Sure!”

He tried to make sure he didn’t actually _skip_ into it. That would be way too weird, and he can’t have anyone asking questions. He’s just a visitor in to these realities; he doesn’t need to mess anything up by blurting out he’s from a different one. He managed to keep his identity a secret as a mermaid, he can totally keep it a secret in this one too!

…hopefully.

In the bathroom, Lance quickly discovered which products were his (it wasn’t hard when everyone else’s seemed to be generic brand; Lance’s, of course, were mostly certainly not) and found himself singing more songs from _A Very Potter Musical_ as he washed himself.

“I’ll cast some spells with the flick of my wand~ Defeat the Dark Arts, yeah, bring it on~ And do it all with my best friend, Ron~ ‘Cause together we’re totally awesome~!”

Maybe it was because the hygiene products were potentially magical in base, or maybe it was because Lance hadn’t taken a shower since he first started this reality traveling, but he swore he’d never felt cleaner in his entire life. He giddily put on his clothes, trying not to actually start laughing, while Keith took his own shower, which was much quicker than his had been.

When they finally walked into the great hall, Keith had a permanent frown on his face.

“You’re acting weird.”

Lance couldn’t take his eyes off the moving painting. The young girl was smiling at him coyly.

“I’m not acting weird,” he said.

“Oh, sure.” Keith rolled his eyes, but they went right back to Lance whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.

“You guys are here early…”

Pidge, _Harry Potter_ Pidge, walking up to them in her blue and bronze robes, squinting at them in confusion, as if they were clones—or being impersonated via Polyjuice potion.

Harry Potter Hunk was close behind her, sporting yellow and black, and he was ginning. “Whoa, are you two actually going to join us for breakfast?”

“Apparently,” Keith said with a shrugging.

They settled down, complaining about an extra-long parchment essay, or something, from Professor Somebody that Lance wasn’t really paying any attention to. He stared in awe as food appeared right before him. Toasted bread with a giant blob of butter underneath a golden fried egg and white melted cheese. His goblet—a _goblet_ —filled with hot _café con leche_ , but with a touch of French vanilla creamer.

It was sheer perfect. The epitome of deliciousness. The breakfast of champions. The—

Allura.

(Harry Potter Allura.)

She was walking on the other side of the room, her green and silver robes billowing behind her gracefully. Beside her was a familiar face, chatting passionately with her.

It took a second for Lance to place it, but the long, near-white hair, gathered together in a low ponytail, was a dead giveaway. Even if he wasn’t purple, it was obvious the person walking with, holding hands with, and laughing with Allura was _Lotor_.

(He wasn’t going to dignify that bastard’s name with “Harry Potter” in front of it, even in his mind.)

Part of him wanted to run to her, throw his arms around her, and never let go. After all, even before she finally agreed to a date, they had been friends, teammates. She was dead in his world, had died saving them years ago, and dammit, he missed her!

However, there was another, larger part of him that was at peace. He’d realized, about a year ago, that there were many things not-right about their relationship. Like how he’d basically been a rebound for Lotor… Fuck, that one had stung a lot when he’d finally realized it—why couldn’t he just be someone’s first pick for once?

He had _changed_ for her. Made himself…less. Less loud, less boisterous, less _him_. With each step backwards, he’d felt more worthy to be with her, to be her equal…and then she just up and left him.

Sure, she sacrificed herself for the sake of the world, but that also meant she left Lance alone with his new, strange self. He hadn’t even realized he’d changed himself until recently—until the night before he asked Keith to take him back to the stars. He had dreamt of them, of seeing and exploring and embracing them, and he’d woken up with a gasp, reaching out to touch those stars once again. It had never been his dream to run his parent’s farm. In fact, he’d been so adamant about leaving for the Garrison just so he _wouldn’t_ be stuck helping his parents farming.

Allura made him want to be someone he wasn’t.

That wasn’t her fault; love was blind, as people said. Lance was blinded by her beauty and power and grace that he lost himself.

He snuck a glance at Keith, his face soft and open, laughing at something Pidge was saying. He remembered watching the sunset with Keith when they’d first arrived back on Earth, and how Keith had told him that he was good enough just the way he was, how he didn’t need to change for anyone, even Allura. He hadn’t really listened then, but now…

But now he was dying.

It didn’t matter what revelations he had about himself because he was dying.

Right.

Shit.

That thought always hit him like a ton of bricks.

Keith had gone from being his rival—one-sided, he could admit now; though the Garrison teachers were partially to blame for it too—to one of his best friends, and of course, with Lance’s luck, it would be when he was dying and his consciousness (soul? quintessence?) was floating around different realities, that he’d finally have the balls to want to confess to Keith.

God, what he wouldn’t give to see his Keith one last time and admit his silly, little crush. Even knowing it would be rejected, at least he could die an honest man—as a raging bisexual, Blue-turned-Red Paladin of Voltron, who wanted to hold Keith fucking Kogane’s hand and kiss his cheek and share one meal with before he perished and rotted in the ground.

…Okay, well, that was morbid as fuck.

He was no longer hungry.

“Oh, Lance,” Hunk said, startling him out of his misery. “Allura’s a fifth year _and_ she’s dating Lotor. You don’t have a chance with her, buddy. I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “Uh, okay. That’s fine.”

Keith did a double take, his cereal dropping from his mouth. Pidge nearly spat out the juice she was drinking.

“What?” he asked.

“ _That’s fine_?” Hunk repeated, his voice going up an octave.

“Yeah, that’s what I said…”

Pidge was standing on the bench and leaning over the table in an instant, her hand reaching out to touch his forehead.

“Do you have a fever? Are you getting sick? Who are you and what have you done with Lance?”

That last line might’ve been funny if it wasn’t true.

He _wasn’t_ their Lance. And maybe their Lance was head-over-heels for Allura, like he’d been for a while in his own universe, but he wasn’t anymore, and he couldn’t bring himself to pretend. Not now. Not after pretending for so long.

Not even for Hogwarts.

“I’m fine,” he said, standing up and out of her reach. “We have, what, an hour before class, right? I’ll meet you there.”

He’d barely made it out of the room when he heard someone running up behind him.

“You didn’t need to follow me,” he sighed, already knowing who it was.

“Clearly I do,” Keith shot back, frowning again. “Look, it’s okay that you’re worried about today’s DADA lesson. I’m worried too.”

Lance grimaced, but he didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t tell Keith the truth, not in a universe like this.

Wait.

A universe like this.

“Let’s go to the library,” he announced loudly, turning to face Keith.

Startled, Keith stammered out, “The—? W- _Why_?”

He shrugged, grinning so brightly his cheeks started to hurt. “Why else? Research!”

“Uh…okay…”

Keith paused for a moment, but thankfully started walking in the direction that was hopefully the library. He didn’t ask Lance anymore questions, though he did side-eye him several times. When they finally got to the great library doors, Lance found the spring in his step again.

He wondered through the aisles, searching for any books with titles about alternate realities and universe jumping. He found one book labeled _Floo Network, Portkey, Time Tuners, and Other Ways of Magical Travel_ as well as one called _Are We Really Alone? A Witch’s Guide to the Stars_. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to search for more before Keith was saying that they needed to get to their first class. Lance checked out the books, put them in his bag and followed Keith to the dungeons, where they had potions.

He nearly tripped when he saw who was at Professor.

Honerva.

If Honerva was here, that must mean Zarkon was too. Lance shivered. The Galra emperor wasn’t down in the dungeons, but Lance was sure the he would be around these halls somewhere.

Stiffly, Lance went to his seat, watching Honerva carefully and keeping an eye out for her husband…but other than a few exploding potions…nothing bad really happened. Honerva was even…dare he say…kind? Strict as hell, don’t get him wrong, but there was no denying that her reassuring smile was genuine as she helped the students around her. There wasn’t any trace of animosity towards him and Keith when she came by to help them fix their exploded potion.

Lance found himself relaxing and actually enjoying himself. Thankfully, the potion they were brewing was just a simple Pepperup Potions, which relieved coughs and colds, because it went _all_ over Keith. It had Lance laughing so hard he nearly fell off the stool! (He couldn’t help it—Keith had looked like a drowned kitten! It was hilarious and precious all at them same time, okay?) He started wiping Keith’s face with the edge of his sleeve, before Keith had stammered that they could just use their wands to clean up the mess. When his face and robe were clear of the potion, Lance couldn’t help but notice a faint blush on Keith’s cheeks that lasted until they got the potion right on the second try.

Instead of teasing him, Lance pulled out the books he checked out, skimming over them as much as he could before the next class. There _had_ to be something interesting and helpful in them. And, indeed, there were lots of interesting things, but none of them were helpful to his current predicament. There weren’t any mentions of alternate realities, much less how to travel between them.

Keith quirked his eyebrow at Lance’s dejected sigh, but he didn’t ask. He did however, lead Lance to their next class, which was Charms.

Lance tripped over his feet as he entered the classroom.

There, at the front of the classroom, was the professor, wearing deep purple robes and a welcoming smile.

It was _Zarkon_.

(A much less furry-looking Zarkon, but still.)

Except this Zarkon didn’t seem anything like the evil emperor he knew. He was smiling, welcoming students by name, even laughing with some of them. So, in this reality, Honerva wasn’t deranged and Zarkon wasn’t evil. Huh.

And just as before in Potions, nothing bad happened…

…if you didn’t count Lance utterly failing to adequately perform the _Carpe Retractum_ spell.

They were supposed to be practicing with a small goblet, using their wands to create a red rope that would pull the object towards them. Lance completely missed the goblet and instead, the rope brought Zarkon’s giant desk towards his face. If you counted doing _that_ as a successful _Carpe Retractum_ spell, then Lance totally succeeded at it…and at breaking his nose. Again.

Thankfully, Zarkon had fixed his broken nose and soothed his black eye with only a soft reprimand. He even let the rest of the class out early, though that was probably because they were all laughing too much to concentrate on learning the spell.

Everyone but Keith, who’d looked downright horrified and had even shouted in fear as the desk had gone hurling towards Lance’s face.

He filed that information away to think on it later. Whenever ‘later’ was, he didn’t know, but he filed it away nonetheless.

“It could’ve been worse,” Pidge snickered as they walked out of the room.

“Sure,” Lance mumbled, rubbing at his tender face. 

Pidge cackled, throwing her head back as her loud laughter echoed around the hall.

“At least there’s not a bruise or anything,” Keith offered, almost shyly.

Lance shrugged. What’s a bruise compared to bleeding out to death? Wait, no. No, don’t think about that. Not _here_.

“So, since we’ve got, like, half an hour to kill, what do you guys wanna do? Wanna hex some people?” Pidge asked, eyeing the other students milling around them, mostly upperclassmen.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Pidge, I swear you were meant to be in Slytherin.”

She shrugged, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Maybe, maybe not. Guess you’ll never know.”

“Well, I’m going to the library,” Lance announced.

Pidge nearly choked on her laugh. “You’re going _where_?”

“The library.”

Maybe if he was actually thirteen, hexing someone would sound like a grand idea, but he’s not. He’s a twenty-year-old galactic war veteran, out of his universe, and almost out of time.

“Again?” Keith asked quietly.

“ _Again_?” Pidge repeated loudly.

Lance huffed out his breath out and rolled his eyes. “Yes, the library. Yes, again. And no, neither of you have to come.”

Pidge stared at him, her eyes narrowed, for a solid three seconds before firmly stating, “If you think I’m missing you walking into the library on your own volition, then you’re absolutely quacked. Let’s go.”

She led the way, mostly because she darted through the sea of students as quick as a rabbit. Lance actually lost sight of her for a few minutes, but Keith remained by his side. He didn’t speak a word as they walked down the halls, though Lance could sense he wanted to. A few times, it looked as though he was about to say something, but then his mouth would shut again. His hand brushed against Lance’s every time it happened, almost as if he wanted to reach out and grab it, but he never did.

Lance was grateful for the silent, yet calming presence Keith emitted. Especially when the library proved to be a complete and total bust. The first books he checked out were useless, and none of the other books seemed like they’d be helpful. Hesitantly, he asked Pidge what she thought, and she loudly asked the librarian in response to his chagrin. Neither knew anything about alternate realities.

“We do have a Muggle fiction section,” the librarian suggested, sounding as though the very thought of someone checking out those books was akin to shoving worms into their mouth.

“What about the Restricted Section?” Lance asked instead. 

Both Pidge and Keith stiffened behind him. He watched as the librarian’s face slowly transform from veiled disgust to absolute outrage.

“The Restricted Section,” she hissed, slamming her palms on her desk. “Is for older, dedicated, perfect students! Not young, nosey, foolish ones! Get out!”

Lance fumed, about to shout right back—how _dare_ she accuse Lance of being a terrible student, of being unworthy—but Pidge and Keith quickly dragged him out of the library.

“That could’ve gone better,” Pidge muttered. “Ugh, she is the _worst_ ; I don’t understand why they hired her, all she does is yell.”

“Yeah, don’t listen to her,” Keith said quickly. “She doesn’t know anything.”

It took Lance a moment to realize what they were saying, but it clicked quickly. They didn’t think Lance was mad; they thought he was _upset_. Which, honestly, had he actually been thirteen, that interaction would’ve definitely messed with his already-crippled self-esteem.

Pidge and Keith were good friends, not just to him in his reality, but to their Lance in their own reality too. The thought made Lance smile.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Thanks guys.”

They smiled, but at the sudden wave of students emerging out of the doors around them, Pidge groaned.

“Ugh, looks like everyone’s out of class now.” She sighed, pulling on her coat. “Well, I have herbology with the Slytherins next. It’s a long walk, so I better get going. See you losers later! Good luck with that reality thing, Lance!”

When she was out of earshot, Keith muttered quietly, “Hey, Lance, maybe you should skip DADA today.”

“What?” Lance frowned, wondering why he was bringing this up _again_. “Why?”

Keith’s shoulders sagged inwards.

“I-I’m not trying to outsmart you or anything like that,” he said quickly. “It’s got nothing to do with any competition or whatever. I just…” He sighed. “Lance, you’re worrying me.”

“…I am?”

The blush had reappeared on Keith’s cheeks, and Lance nearly tripped over his feet again as a thought entered his mind. Keith _liked_ him. Harry Potter Keith had a crush, an honest-to-god _crush_ , on Harry Potter Lance.

Holy fuck.

“ _Yeah_. For starters, you’re awake an hour before breakfast and you look like you’d seen a ghost—” Keith held up his hand, looking slightly exasperated “—and yes, I do know there are ghosts here, and yes, I know you said that you’d been sleepwalking, but one, I don’t believe that for a second, and two, it’s a muggle figure of speech.”

He took another deep breath. “Also, you’re weirdly excited for things that you usually hate, like going to class. You went to the library twice _by choice_. This isn’t like you, okay? I’m worried. Professor Alfor said that today’s lesson wasn’t going to be easy. He said he wouldn’t fail anyone for wanting to skip out on it.”

Now Lance really, really wanted to know what was going to happen in the next period.

“But why do you think I should skip it?” he repeated.

“You’re acting super weird today!” Keith hissed, voice low. “And those books you checked out only made you act weirder.”

 _Hell yeah, I’m acting weird_ , he thought. He was frustrated, confused, and a little scared—because if a magic school with magic books couldn’t tell him what the hell was going on with him, then what would? But he didn’t dare say that aloud.

“It’ll be fine,” he insisted. “There’s no need to worry about me.”

Except when he entered the classroom and saw a giant wardrobe at the front of the room, he shivered. Something about that simple, wooden wardrobe made him nervous. This was Hogwarts, after all; the likelihood of a simple, wooden wardrobe actually being simple, or wooden, was probably very low.

Then, he saw the professor, and it took him a moment to place the face, but it clicked immediately when he heard another student greet the man.

Right, Keith had said Professor Alfor.

Allura’s not-dead, not-Altean dad.

Lance wasn’t sure if this made him more or less anxious for the upcoming class event.

“So, these are the students ready to face their greatest fears, eh?” Alfor mused, mostly to himself. Louder, he announced, “Alright everybody, no need to sit down, just get right in line, yes, yes, right in front of the wardrobe. No need to be scared, it’s just a boggart!”

Boggart.

Lance suppressed another shiver. Boggarts took the form of whatever you were most scared of. Years ago, when he’d read the books, Lance had wondered what his would be… Well, guess he was going to find out. 

As he stood, waiting for the few students in front of him to gather their courage and take a step forward to face their fears—the dark, snakes, clowns, a rabbit, for some reason—Lance tried not to look behind him, where Keith stood, staring a hole in the back of Lance’s head.

Everything would be fine, Lance was sure. There was no way they could find out that he was reality hopping from this.

…right?

Right.

Yeah.

No way.

‘Cause that wasn’t his greatest fear.

Suddenly, Keith was standing beside him, grabbing his arm to pull him down slightly and whisper, “You can still back out, Lance.”

“I’m fine,” he whispered back, perhaps a bit too harshly. “Nothing bad will happen.”

That last part was mainly for him.

Sure, there was a chance, a _small_ chance, his secret would get exposed. That everyone in this room would somehow know that he wasn’t this reality’s Lance. That he was actually bleeding out in a dirty, alien gladiator ring at this very moment. That he had no idea where this realty’s Lance even was right now while he was occupying his body. All of that _could_ potentially get out…

“What are you guys whispering about?” Hunk asked, peering over Keith’s shoulder.

But it was more likely nothing like that would happen at all.

“Nothing,” Lance replied before Keith got the chance to.

He had no idea what the boggart would show for him, but he didn’t want to miss this opportunity. At any moment, he could feel himself sway and be dragged back into the blackness, away from this reality. (He’s pretty sure this was the longest he’s lasted so far.) Besides, the boggart might not become anything damning at all! Maybe it would just become a giant pimple or some abstract thing to portray rejection or something.

The person in front of him just turned a roaring dragon into painting of a dog in a tutu. The people around him chuckled.

“Lance?” Alfor called out. “You’re up. Ready?”

In answer, he took a step forward, wand at the ready. He watched as the boggart’s image swirl until it finally revealed…

Keith?

Oh.

Oh no.

It’s _his_ Keith. 

His Keith, wearing a tattered Blade suit, covered in dirt and blood. His Keith, who’s neck had a deep, jagged gash in it, why blood still tricked out. His Keith.

(So much for it being a pimple or an abstract concept of rejection.)

Behind him, the students all gasped, taking a step backwards in near unison. 

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” his Keith shouted, voice garbled. “You really think killing yourself was going to save me? Don’t you even _know_ me?”

Lance’s chest started to itch. It was like something was pressing into it. 

“You died for _nothing_ , Lance!” he roared, waking forward, balance askew. “And now _I’m_ dead too…but you were always _slow_ , weren’t you?”

“Lance, use the spell!” Alfor shouted. 

“Slow at flying, slow at fighting, slow at _dying_.”

He flinched, and the pain from his chest increased tenfold. 

“I’m already dead, Lance! But look at you! Here in a _fucking_. _fairytale_. Just waltzing through reality after reality as if everything is fine!”

His Keith took another step forward and the pain exploded. Lance fell to his knees, breathless, and swore he could feel his shirt sticking to his skin, wet with blood. 

“But it’s not fine! I’m dead and you’re dying and—!”

“ _RIDDIKULUS_!” someone shouted. 

His Keith turned into a cute, mewling kitten. The other Keith, Harry Potter Keith, was by his side in an instant, clutching at his face. Hunk was next to him too.

“Lance?? Are you okay?! What was tha—” but then Keith paled. “P-Professor! He’s bleeding!”

And once again, Lance’s vision went dark. 

Except this time, he didn’t go into the empty, black void of nothingness and painlessness. He could hear the strangled voices of people around him, feel the hands on his chest, see the flickering lights through the blackness.

When he finally reopened his eyes, it only took him a few seconds to realize he was _still_ in Hogwarts. He was in the infirmary.

“You’ve got to be quiznaking kidding me,” he mumbled. 

“I don’t think you used that word right.”

He turned his head and saw Dumbledore—fucking _Dumbledore_ —sitting by his side. Behind him were Keith, Hunk, and Alfor, all three looking at him nervously. 

“How are you feeling, Lance?” Dumbledore asked pleasantly. 

He licked his lips.

“…Like shit,” he admitted.

Both Keith and Hunk’s jaws dropped at his blasé use of language.

“That was quite an interesting boggart,” Dumbledore commented, ignoring the wide-eyed gaze of his students behind him. “Would you like to tell us a bit more about it.”

Lance huffed out a laugh. The universe really liked having him relay his final moments over and over and over again it seemed. But, he supposed, he could always say no.

He thought about it for a few more seconds before deciding, “Fuck it. Sure, why not.”

He sat up, leaning against the bedframe, allowing himself one moment to fully appreciate the baffled looks from his friends at his choice words.

“Well, for starters,” he started. “I’m dying.”

“What?” Hunk gasped, his hand reaching out. “But the nurse said you’re alright! Lance, you’re not dying, you’re fine!”

There were tears forming in his eyes, but he stopped talking when Alfor gently placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“This body might be alright,” Lance agreed. “But me, my soul, is dying.”

“What makes you say that?” Keith asked, and if it weren’t for the smallest widening of his eyes and the slightest tremble of his jaw, Lance would’ve thought Keith wasn’t affected by his words. But he’s known Keith for years now; he knew exactly where to look to see just how worried Keith truly was.

“Because I am.” He sighed. “My real body is lying on a different planet, in another reality, bleeding out while Keith, my Keith, is being stupid and fighting the alien guards instead of biding his time and waiting to escape.”

“… _What_?” Keith’s voice went up several octaves.

Hunk’s jaw and nearly dropped to the floor.

“Dumbledore,” Alfor began quietly. “You don’t think he might have some mental—”

“I definitely,” he interrupted, “Don’t have a mental affliction or injury or whatever you were about to say. Check my memories in the Pensive-thing. This body might be Harry Potter Lance’s, but my soul and my brain most certainly are not.”

“Harry Potter?” Dumbledore repeated, eyebrow raised and eyes twinkling. “What an interesting name.”

Lance shrugged. “In my world, this whole universe, Hogwarts and magic, is a book series. And a movie set. It’s about Harry Potter, the Chosen One.” At their blank faces, he continued, “The Boy Who Lived. The one stops Voldemort forever.”

Hunk and Alfor flinched at the name. Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

“But that’s me,” Keith blurted out, looking horrified. “I’m the… I’m the Boy Who Lived.”

Well, that was a surprise.

“You are?”

Hunk was gripping Keith’s arm. “He is! You _know_ this, Lance!”

Lance smiled sadly. “Maybe your Lance knows this, but I just got here this morning.”

“This morning,” Keith repeated, and it looked like he was putting things together in his head.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, folding his hands over his lap. “This is certainly an interesting development. Alternate realities exist, traveling through them is possible, and you are somehow dying and not dying all at the same time.”

Alfor frowned. “Wait, Dumbledore, you…you believe him?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He looked back at Lance, his eyes twinkling. “Now, if I may ask, why do you think you’re traveling? How are you doing it?”

“I don’t really think _I’m_ doing it,” he said hesitantly. “I definitely don’t have that kind of power.”

“Who would?” Keith asked, his voice small.

He thought about it. The answer came in a rush.

“Allura,” he breathed out. “When she died, she became the universe and—”

“Allura _dies_?” Hunk gulped.

“No, no, not here. I don’t think,” Lance quickly assured. “In my world. She died to save the universe. To save _all_ realties really. It’s a long story, and I don’t know how much time I have left, but I suppose Allura could somehow be doing this to me.”

Keith hadn’t stopped staring wide-eyed at Lance.

“Why would she do that?” he asked, his voice, somehow, even smaller than before.

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m the first one of all the other Paladins to die? Well, die-die, I mean. The first time didn’t count since she brought me back, like, immediately, I guess.”

“You’ve died before?” Keith and Hunk asked at the same time, voices shrill.

“She might think this is a less painless transition to death,” Lance mused aloud, ignoring the question. “Or maybe this _is_ death. And for eternity, I’ll just travel through different versions of me.”

“I don’t think this is your death,” Dumbledore said at the same time Alfor asked, “Paladins of what?”

Before Lance could open his mouth, he felt himself sway.

“Oh, it’s starting again.”

“What’s starting?” Dumbledore asked.

Keith stood up.

“I’m fading. Off to another reality, I suppose.” He paused. “I think Harry Potter Lance will come back. I’m not sure. I don’t stick around long enough to find out.”

“Wait—!” Keith shouted, grabbing his hands, but it was too late.

Lance sunk back down into himself, into the blackness. He heard himself ask, “Why am I in the infirmary?” before everything went silent. 

He wondered what Harry Potter Keith wanted to tell him.

Then, he woke up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter Keith wanted to ask Lance if they were together in his reality, nudge nudge wink wink ;)
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Parent AU (based on my Ohama Means Family series)  
> Avatar: The Last Airbender AU  
> Soulmate AU ( **not** based on my own Soulmate AU series, but if you wanna read it, it can be found here)
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	6. Te Amo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parent AU 
> 
> Or: Lance Is Really Loved and He Cries A Little (A Lottle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Parent AU is based on my Ohama Means Family series and you don’t have to read it for this to make sense, but I’d appreciate it if you checked it out anyway :)
> 
> And just in case it isn't clear, Keith works as a nurse! That's his job in this AU :3
> 
> okay so apparently my links in my End Notes aren't working?? but they do in my Beginning Notes???? what??!?!!? idk man. i.d.k. anyway. [here's the link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522304) to my Soulmate AU fic that is **not** based on the upcoming chapter 8, but I'd still appreciate it if you checked it out <3

First, Lance heard the honking. Next, Lance saw the headlights. Then, his brain realized that _holy shit he was driving a fucking car_ and his arms moved on their own accord, swerving him back into the right lane.

“ _SHIT_!”

For a moment, all he could hear was the pounding in his chest. He couldn’t stop gripping the steering wheel as he steadied the car, careful not to overcorrect himself and accidentally flip it before he even got the chance to see what the reality was about.

Or accidentally kill this reality Lance’s body.

Slowly, he merged lanes, carefully trying to keep his shaking arms still, and pulled into the nearest parking lot, which was apparently for a fast food chain called McKing’s. He tried to steady his breathing. It had been ages since he’d driven anything that wasn’t a blue, metal lion or a tractor, and those things were on completely opposite ends of the speed factor.

He definitely preferred waking up in Hogwarts, on that soft bed in the early hours of the morning.

“P-Papa?” a voice from the backseat pipped up.

A chill to shivered down Lance’s spin.

He almost prayed he’d misheard the radio, that it was just a figment of his imagination.

“Are y-you okay-y?”

...that definitely wasn’t the radio.

The voice was very quiet and sounded very scared.

Feeling like he was moving through molasses, Lance turned ever-so-slowly, taking in the scene before his eyes. A boy with wide brown eyes and a quivering lip was sitting in the seat diagonal from him. He was holding onto the car seat next to him, which contained a sleeping little girl.

They didn’t look anything alike. The boy’s brown skin and curly, brown hair reminded Lance of himself while the girl was nearly pale-white with jet-black hair, pulled up into two little pigtails. He looked to be about twelve years old, but she couldn’t have been more than two.

“Papa?” the boy asked again.

 _Shit, he’s talking to me_ , Lance realized. He licked his lips and opened his mouth. Then closed it again.

 _I almost killed them_ , he thought. _I almost killed these children and this boy thinks I’m his **dad**. I almost **killed** him._

Finally, he managed to choke out, “S-Sorry. I’m fine. Are you—? Are you two okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The boy was speaking slowly, but Lance wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared or if he could tell just how terrified Lance was. Maybe both.

After a pause, he added, “Amelia’s still sleeping.”

“Oh, good. Good, I’m glad.” He turned forward again and slumped in his seat. “That’s good. Good.”

Okay, so he was in another reality, yeah, not very surprised about that. Check.

Another reality where he was a dad, apparently. Check?

And he driving to…to somewhere. Not check.

And he almost drove the car into the oncoming lane.

He almost killed them _all._

(Big fucking Not Check.)

 _What the **fuck** , universe_, he thought. _What the actual **fuck.** Allura, I swear if you’re doing this—_

“Is it because of mama?” the boy asked, his voice still as low as before. “I know this day can be hard on you, papa…”

“Um…”

He tried to think of what to say.

He had absolutely no idea.

“I know I asked if we could visit her grave today,” the boy continued, wringing his hands nervously. “But we don’t have to, if you’re not feeling up for it.”

Grave. Fucking _grave_. Shit, shit, shit, could this universe get any _worse?_

( _And, no, Allura, or universe or whatever, that wasn’t a request!_ )

He sighed, rubbing his face harshly, trying to take everything in without scaring the boy even further. Without scaring his _son_ … Did he at least remarry? Or was he a single dad? Who had been the boy’s mother?

His eyes drifted down to his hands. A gold ring shone on the third finger of his left hand.

Okay, so he either remarried or kept his ring on from his first marriage.

“Maybe we should ask Papa Keith to come pick us up,” the boy suggested quieter. “I know he’s working right now, but…”

In the rearview mirror, Lance watched the boy’s eyes glance down towards the sleeping girl as he trailed off.

Lance blinked.

Wait, _Papa_ Keith?

So…he wasn’t a single dad then… He wasn't single because it was him and…and…

Keith.

_Keith._

He and _Keith_ were _—_

His eyes drifted back down to his hands and he stared at the ring on his finger.

 _—_ were married.

They were **_married_**! 

And that had to mean that these kids were _theirs_. They raised and cared for them both _together_.

…Holy shit, he and Keith were _married_!

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” he croaked out, mind racing.

He didn’t notice the frown the boy gave him.

Looking down at the cupholders, he saw a phone that had to be his. He picked it up, unlocking it just by bringing it towards his face. After a moment’s pause to marvel at this reality’s technology, he went into his contacts and quickly found Keith’s number. His name was _Mi Amor Keith_.

Keith didn’t answer on the first try.

“Call him again,” the boy said. He was unbuckled, leaning through the gap between the two front seats. “He never answers the first time when he’s at the hospital, remember? Only the second. Or third.”

It was indeed on the third call that Keith picked up.

“Lance, what is it? My shift’s over in two hou—”

“Papa Keith,” the boy interrupted, taking away the phone from Lance’s ear. “It’s me, Dante. Can you come pick us up?”

“What happened, where’s Lance, are you okay?” Keith asked quickly, his tone going from slightly annoyed to fully alert as the words tumbled out of his mouth in one breath.

He was _worried,_ Lance realized with a start. It probably shouldn’t have been so surprising, since they were apparently married and all, but still. Keith was _worried_ about them, all of them. He was married to Lance and they had children, and Keith was _worried_ for them.

The boy, Dante, glanced at Lance briefly before answering, “We’re fine. We’re all fine. But we almost got into a car accident—”

“ _What_?!”

“Don’t worry! No one’s hurt and the car is fine too,” Dante assured quickly. “But we’re in front of McKing’s, the one on the way to the graveyard. Can you come pick us up? Please.”

There was a pause before Keith gravely promised, “I’ll be there right away.”

Dante ended the call and set it back down in the cupholder.

“Papa,” he started quietly. “I’m really sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Lance replied quickly.

He might not have any idea what was going on in this universe, but he knew, instinctively, that this boy had done nothing wrong.

“But today’s mama’s anniversary. And I know you and Papa Keith love each other—” Lance tried to keep his breathing normal “—but I also know you miss mama too. And with Amelia just getting over her cold…it was all too much today. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he repeated. “I got distracted while driving. You didn’t do anything, buddy.”

Dante frowned. “ _Buddy_?”

Before Lance could think to panic at the idea of saying the wrong thing, the girl in the car seat, Amelia, stirred.

“Papa,” she whined, stretching her tiny little arms. “Papa, ’m hungry…”

Lance glanced at the building in front of them.

“Want some McKing’s?” he asked hesitantly.

“Uh-huh,” she chirped, the sleep already gone from her eyes at the prospect of junk food.

Dante didn’t say anything, but he still looked worried. Crestfallen, even.

By the time Keith walked through the doors, wearing scrubs, their food was already eaten. Well, except for a few French fries and apple slices that Amelia was using to put on a play that neither Lance nor Dante could follow along, but they were both nodding enthusiastically, adding some _Oooh_ s and _Ahhh_ s when they thought it was appropriate.

“Hey,” Keith greeted, sliding into the booth next to Lance.

“Hey—”

He barely said the word before Keith was kissing him. It was short, just a peck really, but it was still so tender that Lance’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe two.

“Everything okay?” he asked, cupping Lance’s cheek.

“It’s my fault!” Dante blurted.

Lance sighed. “No, it’s—”

“I wanted to visit mama’s grave,” he said, looking down at the ground. “I was giving papa a really hard time about it. And then in the car, he just zoned out and…” he sniffed. “I’m sorry, papa.”

“I told you, that wasn’t your fault,” Lance said, but it felt like such a weak excuse. He had no idea what this universe’s Lance had been thinking before he suddenly gained control of his body.

What did this kid’s mom mean to him? How had she died, and how had Keith come into the picture?

Keith’s hand rested hotly against Lance’s thigh.

“I’m glad you’re all okay,” he said and even reached over to ruffle Amelia’s hair with his other hand.

“Daddy!” she giggled.

Lance couldn’t help smiling at how cute they were togeth— _holy shit_. The little girl looked almost exactly like Keith. Same color eyes, same jet-black hair, same nose. Glancing over to the boy, he confirmed that, yep, Dante looked almost exactly like him. Curly brown hair, big blue eyes, long fingers…

He was starting to understand the picture here. From what’s been said already, Dante was clearly Lance’s son by blood. And it was looking like Amelia might be Keith’s daughter by blood.

“Well, I’m already off work.” Keith was making funny faces at the girl, who clapped and laughed excitedly. “Why don’t we go together. Is that okay?”

He was looking at Lance.

“Yeah. Together,” he agreed.

After transferring Amelia’s car seat, which should not have been as hard it as it was to do, from Lance’s SUV to Keith’s small sedan, they all piled into it.

Other than the songs on the radio (which Lance had never heard before in his life, even the “oldies”) and a few of Amelia’s observations (“Look, daddy! Birdies!”), the ride was mostly silent. It only took about ten minutes to get to the graveyard. It didn't even take five minutes for them to get out of the car and walk to the gravestone. As soon as they got there, Dante knelt in the dirt and began muttering in Spanish.

Lance was glad Keith was holding Amelia because he wasn’t sure if he would’ve dropped her upon reading the name on the stone.

_Allura McClain. Loving Mother, Beautiful Wife, Badass Human._

He felt like he was punched in the gut.

“Hey, remember what we talked about,” Keith said quietly, reaching for his hand. “It’s okay to still miss her and love her. She gave you Dante.”

Not trusting his voice, Lance merely nodded. For a moment he couldn’t move, but as he listened to Dante’s quiet murmurs and watched as Amelia reached for a pretty flower growing out of the ground, he really couldn’t hold it in any more.

The moment Keith stood back up from setting Amelia down, Lance launched his arms around his neck and buried his face in his neck.

“Whoa, Lance…” But Keith immediately wrapped his arms around him. “It’s okay. I’m here. I love you.”

Hearing those three little words did nothing to help matters.

 _Why, universe?_ he begged it. _Why are you putting me through this? Allura? Is this you? **Why**?_

In another reality, in _this_ reality, he was never a Paladin. He was never in constant danger of being killed by aliens who wanted to take over the universe. He was never putting off some of his needs and wants and desires for the greater good.

Like having a family.

He’d grown up with brothers and sisters running around the house with him; with aunts and uncles constantly coming over for dinner, or vice versa; with nieces and nephews and little cousins that needed babysitting; with always giving love and getting love in return.

Here, in this reality, he’d had that too. And more.

He had actually gotten to have a life with Allura. A small one, but they apparently had a _child_ together. She probably hadn’t used him as just a rebound, like she had (unknowingly, he’s sure) in his universe. Maybe he hadn’t even needed to change or hide anything about himself for her either.

But what really got him, what really made Lance clutch at Keith’s back and try to breathe in as much of his scent as possible, was that despite being married to Allura and having a kid with her, it was now _him and Keith_ married. With _two_ children. He was a father in this universe, with Keith as his husband.

At the café, he’d had a crush on Keith; at the high school, there could’ve been something more between them, if Lance let it; when they were mermaids, they were definitely romantically together; and even at Hogwarts, Keith seemed to have had a crush on him.

Why did it seem like he had a chance with Keith in every universe but his own?

“Shhh,” Keith was saying, rubbing his back and gently swaying them. “It’s okay, Lance. I got you.”

“Papa?” Amelia’s soft voice flittered up to his ears.

“Hey, Amelia, come on, I want to show you something,” Dante’s voice said.

Lance listened to their footsteps walking away. He’d almost killed them earlier. Knowing he was dying was awful, but knowing he almost caused the same fate to his other self’s _children_ was nearly unbearable.

He cried harder.

“I got you, Lance,” Keith kept murmuring. “I got you. I love you.”

 _You love the other Lance_ , he thought bitterly. _Not me. My Keith doesn’t…_

He tried not to finish that thought.

He tried not to think of all the times his Keith looked at him with soft eyes and faint smiles. The times when he told Lance that he was good enough just as he was. The times when they laughed and maybe, might’ve brushed hands or bumped knees a little too much.

He tried not to remember Keith’s body heat when he held Lance in the cell, playing with his hair. When he put himself between Lance and the guards. When he stood behind him, pressing up against him as they walked to the area. When he pressed his lips to Lance’s forehead as he laid dying on the dirty ground.

He wished he could feel his Keith’s lips moving against his own. He wished he wasn’t dying. He wished his Keith could love him like this.

Would it even be fair to ask _this_ Keith to do what his Keith can never do?

Maybe not, but Lance was going to die soon anyway…

Slowly, he pulled back, just enough to be nose-to-nose with this Keith.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured.

“I’m not stopping you,” Keith said, leaning in.

This kiss was different from the other ones. Perhaps it was because they were older in this reality. Perhaps it was because they’d been with each other for some long amount of years. Perhaps it was because they were married. Whatever the reason, Lance melted into it.

Keith held him like there was no one else in the world and kissed him like they had all the time left in it. He held Lance close, tightly yet tenderly. Soft yet unyielding. Grounding yet passionate. Somehow, it felt even more intimate knowing there wasn’t any sexual heat in their intentions.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” Keith asked quietly, resting his forehead against Lance’s as his hand gently cupped his cheek.

“It’s just been a really long day,” he answered.

“Are you ready to go home?”

Lance almost chuckled at that. Almost.

Instead, he said, “More than you’ll ever know.”

Keith huffed out a small laugh and kissed him again.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Hand-in-hand, they made their way back to the car, calling out for Dante and Amelia to follow them. They didn’t stop holding hands on the ride home.

As they passed McKing’s, Lance frowned.

“I don’t work tomorrow,” Keith said, bringing Lance’s hand to his lips. “We’ll get your car then. No need to worry about it now.”

“Okay.”

When they got home, to an actual house, which was _theirs_ , Dante offered to put Amelia to bed, and then went to his room to finish his homework. He couldn’t seem to be able to look Lance in the eyes.

It seemed almost like Dante was avoiding Lance, but he wasn’t sure if it was because the boy still felt guilty or if he knew Lance needed it or if it was something else entirely.

A dog that looked almost identical to Kosmo—blue fur, yellow eyes, even the lighter blue markings—got up off one of the rugs and followed Lance and Keith through the house.

“Hey, girl,” he whispered, petting her head. She seemed to like it because she jumped up on the couch with him, butted at his hand. They stayed there for a short while Keith pattered about in the kitchen.

When he walked into the living room, holding a giant bowl, Lance frowned.

“Is that cereal? For _dinner_?”

“Well, you guys already ate dinner,” he mumbled, mouth full of food. “I’m hungry too.”

Rolling his eyes, Lance stood up. He might not be as good as Hunk, but he did know how to cook. Some things. His mama wasn’t going to send her son miles away from her without at least the basic cooking skills. Hunk helped him with some other, slightly-fancier recipes later on.

“Dude, no, that’s not dinner. What do you want? I’ll make it.”

“I’m fine,” Keith tried to protest.

“Nope!” he called out, walking into the kitchen, Kosmo right on his heels. “Tell me what you want.”

What he wanted turned out to be macaroni and cheese with chicken.

Easy-peasy, Lance made that most nights for himself back on the farm.

Keith stood behind him, holding his waist and nuzzling his neck as he transferred the cooked chicken into the pan with the mac ‘n’ cheese.

“Smells delicious,” he murmured. Then, “I love you.”

Lance hoped Keith couldn’t feel his heart racing at that. Keith said _I love you_ almost as often as he breathed, and it made Lance ache.

“Yeah, it does. I think I’ll have some too.”

Somewhere in the house, the floor squeaked.

“Better make that three bowls,” Keith said, voice light. He winked. “I think we’re going to have some company.”

Dante peeked into the kitchen. Kosmo immediately went to his side, headbutting his hand, and if Lance didn’t know any better, he’d say that Kosmo teleported there.

“Hey,” Dante said quietly, patting Kosmo.

“Hey, buddy,” Keith greeted. “Hungry?”

“A little bit…”

Keith finally untangled himself from Lance’s back and moved to the side of him, opening the cabinet overhead, probably to grab the bowls. Distantly, Lance wondered why Keith could call Dante ‘buddy,’ but when he did, it was suspicious.

“Hey, papa?” Dante asked quietly.

Lance smiled. “Hey, Dante.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

His voice was so timid, so devastated. Lance felt his heart break.

“I’m sure I’m not mad at you. Why do you think I am?”

Dante shrugged, hunching over into himself. “You haven’t called me _calabaza_ or _tu pequeña calabaza_ since we almost got into the accident.”

…Oh.

So, _that_ was why Lance calling him ‘buddy’ was a red flag to the boy.

Quickly, Dante added, “I know I asked you not to call me that anymore, but I… Well, I didn’t think you’d actually stop, papa.”

Then, even quieter, he said, “Please don’t stop, papa.”

Turning off the stove, Lance knelt down and gripped Dante’s hands. There was no way he was going to let this boy think his father hated him just because Lance was traveling across different realities without knowing even the tiniest bit of information about any of them.

“I _promise_ you, Dante. _Mi pequeña calabaza_ , _mi rayo de sol_ , _mijo_. I am one-hundred-and-fifty-million percent certain that I’m not mad at you in the slightest. _Ciento-cincuenta-millones-por-ciento_. Okay?”

He sniffed, a tear falling down his cheeks, but he was also grinning. “Okay.”

Lance pulled him into a hug. “I love you, _calabaza_.”

“I love you too, papa.”

Together, they walked to the table, where Keith had filled their bowls with the chicken mac ‘n’ four cheese and was waiting for them with a smile.

Then, just after Lance had taken the first bite of his food, he felt himself sway.

 _Are you shitting me?_ He groaned inwardly and tried to bring another bite to his mouth, but he was moving too slow. Well, no, his body was moving at normal speed; it was just that his mind was sinking faster than his arm could move.

He’d had so much time in Hogwarts and while that had been beyond amazing, he would’ve given up half, hell, _all_ , of that time to just stay in this reality a little longer. To finish dinner here, wash the dishes here, curl under the blankets here, all with Keith by his side, whispering _I love you_ and holding his hand.

The last thing he saw was Keith’s smile, tender and soft, as he looked up to meet Lance’s eyes.

“Uh, how’d we get here?” he heard himself ask before he was completely submerged in darkness once again.

As much as he wanted to stay there forever, he also would’ve been okay with that being his last reality, his last moment alive. He could still feel Keith’s arms around him and his lips on his. Finally dying after this would’ve been okay with him. He would’ve been good with this being his last reality, his last few moments alive.

But, of course, he woke up once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish translations are:
> 
>  _Mi pequeña calabaza_ = My little pumpkin
> 
>  _Mi rayo de sol_ = My sunshine
> 
>  _Mijo_ = My boy
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming up:  
> Avatar: The Last Airbender AU  
> Soulmate AU  
> Galtean AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	7. You're My Moonlight Mood and Our Hearts Are Blending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TV Show AU - Avatar: The Last Airbender
> 
> Alternately tiled: Bend It Like Katara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should've mentioned by now that these titles are all from songs... Heh, oops ;_;* 
> 
> This title is from _Moonlight Mood_ by Frank Sinatra.

Lance woke up feeling like absolute shit.

For a moment, he wondered if, somehow, he’d been saved. If the Blade had gotten to him and Keith in just the nick of time. If they threw him in one of their travel healing pods and zipped back to their Earth base, where they then threw him in one of their long-term healing pods. If Keith was alive and the guards were either dead or arrested. If everything was okay…

…But no.

No, it couldn’t be.

He didn’t feel like shit because he’d been stabbed with a sword. This was a different kind of shit. The ache in his being was more akin to when he’d nearly been blown up by fake-Rover than by a sword having pierced his lung.

Had he been in some sort of dodgeball game, where the balls were giant, sharp boulders?

“Lance? Are you awake, buddy?”

That voice. For once, it wasn’t Keith’s.

“Hunk?”

He sounded like he’d been strangled.

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, guys! He’s awake!”

Someone, probably Hunk, pushed him up into a sitting position and a wave of nausea overtook him.

People were taking to him, yammering away fast and loud. Faces were pressing into his line of sight, blurring together and forming one giant fleshy mess. Even hands were touching him gently, but they were everywhere at once—his face, his arms, his chest.

Then, suddenly, he was staring down at the ground, puking.

“It’s okay,” Hunk was saying, rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Lance, you’re okay. Let it all out.”

“That’s not good…right?” someone asked. It sounded like…Allura?

He groaned and puked again. Last time he woke up wasn’t this bad, and he’d nearly killed himself then. And two kids!

…Okay, so, maybe last time was _technically_ worse. Technically. But, at least, last time he didn’t wake up with his head pounding and his stomach churning and his ears ringing! And he was _so tired_. He just wanted to curl up into a ball in a pitch black room and sleep.

“Guys, not so loud,” Hunk hissed.

“I think we should take him to see a healer,” another voice said that sounded a lot like Pidge.

 _Healer_? Blinking a few times, he tried to gather his bearings.

(Why did the ground look so weird?)

Okay, so, he was definitely not back in his reality, and he was probably still dying there. He tried not to think on that part too hard. Wherever he was had Hunk, Allura, and Pidge—

“We’re at least a seven-hour flight away from the closest town.”

—and Keith too, apparently. 

Wait, did he say _flight_?

“Don’t worry, Lance.” That was Shiro’s voice. “We’ll get you healed up in no time.”

Finally, he realized what it was about the ground that was making him feel extra dizzy.

It had to be _miles_ below him.

He was up in the sky, flying. Flying on…on…

“Orange fur?”

Carefully, he pushed himself up off the…the saddle? It kinda looked like part of a saddle. After a moment, he turned around, taking in the scene before him.

Hunk was sitting beside him, wearing a mix of yellow and orange that reminded him of some TV show he watched when he was little. The main kid had a blue arrow on his forehead too.

It hurt to stare at him too long with the wind whipping his orange headband around, so Lance moved onto Pidge, who was the second closest to him, sitting next to Hunk. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing a mixture of light and dark greens.

Next to her was Shiro, sitting on his knees, whose metal arm looked so familiar, but it still wasn’t _right_. He was wearing red and black, just like Keith, who was standing beside him. There was something on Keith’s face that Lance could only read as _severely worried_ because it seemed like Keiths in all realities had the same face.

Finally, there was Allura, wearing blue with her white hair pulled up in an intricate design of braids.

They were all on a large, wooden structure that, yep, was definitely a saddle. It also contained bedrolls and a few boxes of what looked like food.

And at the front of it all, was a giant, orange cat head.

“What the fuck,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” Hunk blurted, tears in his eyes. “You warned us about that man, you said you didn’t trust him, and we…I didn’t believe you.” He hiccupped, rubbing at his eyes. “God, Lance, you almost _died_!”

He wanted to laugh at the irony. This reality’s Lance had just escaped death. He wasn’t going to be so lucky.

“It’s okay,” he started, but, surprisingly, Keith cut in.

“It’s _not_ okay!” His hands were balled into fists at his side. “None of us listened to you and you almost _died_ because of our arrogance. That’s not _okay_ , Lance!”

Little flames appeared around Keith’s fists, but before Lance could comment on it, Keith was taking a deep, calming breath. As his fists relaxed, the flames disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Lance,” Allura said. She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “I can’t help but feel this is my fault. I’m the Avatar. I should’ve known. I should’ve _listened_ to you.”

The Avatar. That sounded familiar to him.

“I shouldn’t have let our fight get in the way of my judgement,” she continued. “I might’ve been born in the Northern Water Tribe, but I’m also the Avatar. You were right to tell me that I need to learn more than just healing from you. Just because my people don’t allow women to fight doesn’t mean I should adhere to their rules. Besides,” she finally looked up at him. “It’s stupid and sexist anyway, right?”

“…Right.”

She frowned slightly, but Lance looked away.

Okay, so Avatar, Northern Water Tribe, this is that one kids show, the one that got turned into a movie everybody hated. Avatar…Avatar… _Avatar: The Last Airbender_! That’s it! His sister, Rachel, loved that show as a kid and made him watch it with her constantly.

(He preferred the sequel to be honest.)

But why was he here? Why did different realities involve, so far, two separate media franchises? First Harry Potter and now Avatar.

“Hey, Lance?”

He blinked, and realized that Shiro was in front of his face, looking worried.

“Lance, can you tell me what day it is?” he asked.

Oh shit.

“Uh…Tuesday?”

Shiro frowned. Everyone seemed tense.

“And who’s currently the ruler of the Northern Water Tribe?”

Well, that’s a great question, really.

“Um, it’s…”

He glanced back over at Allura. She was part of the Northern Water Tribe. She said _my people_ , didn’t she?

“It’s Allura’s dad,” he guessed, his words sounding timid to his ears. “Alfor.”

“And who’s the ruler of the Fire Nation?”

“Are these questions really necessary?” Hunk asked, seemingly forgetting that he was still holding Lance up since he couldn’t do it on his own.

“Not if he can answer them.” He leaned forward. “Lance, who’s the leader of the Fire Nation?”

Lance tried not to panic, which was much easier than expected, probably because he still felt like utter shit. Were there clones in Avatar? What would happen to someone if they were found out to actually be from a different universe?

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

Shiro sighed, leaning back. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Before Lance could say anything else, that would probably be even more damning, Pidge grasped his hand.

“Don’t worry, Lance. I’ve seen people with this affliction before. After a trip to a healer, they’re all better in no time.”

“Affliction?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand. “Vomiting, memory loss, and from your squinting I bet you have a wicked headache too.”

Hold up, he actually knew those symptoms. Growing up in his family, someone was always injuring themselves, and this particular injury happened to his eldest brother Marco, who wrestled, more times than his mama liked.

“Oh, I have a concussion,” he slurred.

Slurring. That was another symptom.

Pidge raised her eyebrow. “Uh, I’ve never called it that, but sure. Whatever works for you, Lance.”

“He’ll be fine, won’t he?” Allura fretted. “Oh, if only my father allowed me to practice waterbending. Maybe, Lance could get better faster…”

Shiro put his non-metal arm on her shoulder. “Princess, we’ve told you. You can’t blame yourself for your people’s customs. Especially now, when being a bender is dangerous. But, Allura, you’ll learn. That’s what we’re all here for, okay? We’re going to teach you how to be the Avatar.”

“I thought we were here because the non-benders have bounded together to kill all us benders with weird robotic weapons that take away our bending,” Hunk muttered quietly, only so Lance could hear.

“Wait, that’s not the plot of Avatar,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

But Lance was leaning over again, puking. When he came back up, Hunk offered him some water. Keith was much closer to them now too.

“Okay, what’s up with the cat?” he asked. Now that he had the excuse not to know what was going on, he might as well use it.

“You mean Coran?” Pidge clarified.

Coran? What the fuck kind of world is this?

“We’re flying on Coran the Cat?”

“Uh, yeah?” Pidge frowned. “Did you forget that?”

Hunk gasped. “Lance! You haven’t forgotten how to waterbend, have you?”

Lance looked down at his hands. “I don’t know…”

Technically, he couldn’t forget what he never knew.

Still. _Waterbending_.

It seemed like such a cool power when he was little—and what was it that one woman could do? It was with her blood… Oh, yes. Bloodbending. That was absolutely terrifying, but also so fucking awesome at the same time.

“Shiro.” Keith was standing up now. “It’s going to get dark soon, we should find a place to make camp.”

“Will he…?”

“Don’t worry, Hunk,” Pidge assured, putting her hand on Hunk’s shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Lance should be fine for another night.”

“Should be?” he repeated frowning. Then, looking down, he said, “Man, Lance, I wish you could just heal yourself. You’re a great healer.”

“Thanks.” Lance offered a smile that he hoped was reassuring, but from Hunk’s grimace, it probably wasn’t.

“Do you really not remember how we got Coran?” Pidge asked.

Lance shrugged, leaning into Hunk’s body warmth.

“Not really,” he mumbled.

“It was at the Garrison,” she started. “When we were escaping. Remember? You and Keith were holding Shiro while Hunk and I were trying to find the exit.”

“That does sound familiar,” he said, neglecting to mention that the familiarity was only because that scene she described was nearly the same one from his reality, just with less flying orange cats.

(Though, he did find a giant, metal, flying blue lion…okay maybe it was more similar than he originally thought.)

Shiro sat down in front of him, though with enough distance that if Lance had to puke again, he wasn’t in the line of fire.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He smiled softly. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for rescuing me.”

“We didn’t rescue all of you,” Keith muttered darkly, arms crossed over his chest.

Shiro’s shoulders seemed to sag. “Keith…”

“But don’t worry.” He looked up, determined. “We’re going to get your bending back, Shiro. Allura’s the Avatar; she’ll be able to do it.”

Lance’s eyes slid over to Allura, who was sitting just a tad too far away from them. She seemed to crumble into herself at Keith’s words. He wanted to call out to her, to comfort her, but he didn’t know what to say. Pidge was already talking again before he could think of anything.

“You were the one who found Coran. The guards were coming up at the other end of the hall and you just ducked into some room without knowing what could’ve been on the other side. It could’ve been more guards, Lance!”

“But instead, we found Coran,” Hunk reminded. “He seemed to like you immediately.”

“How’d he get to be so big?” Lance frowned, then added, “And have flying powers?”

“We don’t really know,” Pidge admitted. “But we’re sure it has to do with the experiments the Galra did on him.”

Keith snorted.

“Galra. What a stupid name. They’re a cult of non-benders who want to take over the world and steal all the benders’ powers for themselves.” He rolled his eyes. “ _Glara_.”

“And, uh,” Pidge fiddled with a loose hem on her shirt. “Lance, I know you don’t remember much, but I don’t suppose you can tell us now how you’d even escaped that night? I know waterbenders are more powerful on a full moon, but…”

“You were in a room with no water,” Hunk said quietly. “They pumped dry air down there, I heard the guards saying that in my cell. Well, when I was conscious, I heard it.”

“I was suspended in the air, in a giant metal cage.” Pidge shivered. “If it hadn’t been for you and Keith, Hunk and I would still be there.”

Lance turned to Keith, eyes wide, but Keith raised his hands in protest.

“You were already free when I found you, I had nothing to do with it. I was just trying to find Shiro and get him out of there.”

“And you did,” Shiro said, gently bumping Keith’s shoulder with a fist.

“So, how did _you_ get out?” Pidge repeated.

Lance shook his head, but stopped when he had to puke from the movement.

When he finished, he said, “I’m sorry, Pidge, I don’t remember.”

But he did have a hunch…he wasn’t sure though. However, if this reality’s Lance didn’t tell his friends (his team? his group of acquaintances with the same enemy?), then it wasn’t his place to voice his thoughts. He caught Allura’s eye, who nodded at him solemnly, as if saying, _Yes, don’t tell them, Lance. Not yet._

Allura knew how he escaped, he realized with a jolt. And from her look, it didn’t seem very good…which meant that it had to be what he’d been thinking about.

Somehow, this Lance could bloodbend.

He wondered if Lance bent the guard’s blood and forced them to open his cage, like from the show. Or maybe Lance bent his own blood into a key and opened the cage himself. Maybe it was something else entirely.

“Why,” he cleared his throat. “Why didn’t we get anyone else out?”

A tear fell from Hunk’s face. “You don’t remember? We were all separated from one another; just one person per room and spread throughout the Garrison. I’d been right beside Pidge, remember? They scattered us so if we did happen to escape, we couldn’t find our friends—”

“Or family,” Pidge finished, her face dark. “They did that so if we escaped, we’d be alone, and we’re weaker against them alone.”

“We also didn’t have time to rescue anyone else,” Keith added quietly. Despite the sadness in his voice, there was also an edge to it that warned anyone who dared argue with him would get a verbal thrashing. Maybe even a physical one too. “By the time we found Shiro, the guards knew about your breakout and we had to leave before they captured us.”

“Oh…” Lance suppressed a shiver. This wasn’t the Avatar world he watched on TV.

“But we _are_ going to get them out,” Keith promised. “One day we’ll go back and save them.”

He nodded. One day they would go back and save them, he was sure, but he wouldn’t be there for it. He and his team did their jobs already. Their universe was safe—hell, all realities were safe, thanks to his Allura—though it made sense that different reality would have different problems to solve, different wars to be won.

After a moment, he looked up, locking eyes with this reality’s Allura.

“You weren’t at the Garrison though.”

“No,” she agreed. “You flew all the way to the Northern Water Tribe from the deserts of the Garrison. I don’t know how, but Coran got you all there safely.”

“It was like he knew we needed the Avatar,” Shiro said, smiling at the giant cat’s head.

“But the Galra followed.” Pidge’s voice was scathing. “It took a day, but they found us again. Allura was the only waterbender left—”

“A waterbender who can’t bend,” Allura muttered darkly.

“Yet,” Lance added. “You’ll get there Allura.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“So, while the Northern Water Tribe was fighting, we flew out on Coran.” Pidge seemed partially in awe at her next words, “It had been Chief Alfor’s idea to use his people as a diversion to help us escape.”

Lance let that sink in. It was a lot.

“Don’t worry, about all that though,” Shiro said. “Right now, all you have to concern yourself with is sleeping and then getting healed. Midday tomorrow, we’ll be at the town.”

He nodded.

Midday tomorrow he probably wouldn’t be here.

It had been just over an hour since Lance woke up, but the sun was nearly gone by now. They finally settled down on the ground to make camp for the night. Coran the Cat yawned, stretched, circled himself a few times, and then collapsed, curling in on himself. He was purring in seconds. It was quite loud.

Everyone got to work setting up the tents, except Keith, who made the fire and began cooking the food, and Shiro, who took a bow and arrow and left for the woods. Lance was instructed to stay seated by the fire and not to move a muscle.

“Feeling okay?” Keith asked after a short while, once everyone else was out of earshot.

“Not really,” he admitted.

Frowning, Keith reached out his hand, but whatever he was going to do was aborted when Hunk walked over and plopped down on the ground.

“What’s the menu for today?” he asked.

“Rabbit stew.”

“Again?” Pidge complained, coming up and sitting down on the other side of Keith.

“Don’t worry,” Shiro announced, holding up some type of animal that Lance had never seen before. With a giant grin. “We’ll have a better dinner tomorrow.”

“And it’s Hunk’s turn tomorrow,” Pidge said, sighing longingly.

Keith frowned. “Hey, now, I’m not _that_ bad.”

Even Allura giggled at that.

As they ate—though Lance didn’t really eat; his stomach didn’t allow for that—they recalled the story of how Lance had lost consciousness and gained a concussion.

It was eerily similar to how he’d gotten blown up in his reality. Except, instead of following a weird Rover-like drone that wasn’t Rover, he was following an Earthbender who was actually working for the Galra. Apparently, if those with bending pledged themselves to the Galra’s cause, their bending wouldn’t be taken away.

“ _Yet_ ,” Pidge had added darkly. “Any idiot who trusts those bastards to keep their word deserves to have their hide flogged and their asses stuffed with peppers.”

“Pidge,” Shiro had admonished, but everyone had laughed at her commentary.

Everyone except Keith who kept looking at Lance worriedly throughout the tale; he was discreet enough that Lance was sure no one else noticed. Maybe Shiro, but Shiro knew Keith almost better than Lance did.

“Anyway,” Pidge continued, picking up the story from where Hunk had left off. “It took me nearly ten minutes to bend the rockslide off you. Keith and Hunk were giving that man bloody murder for what he did to you, Lance.”

“He nearly killed you,” Hunk muttered. “Strangulation and then bending all those rocks to fall on you…the idiot deserved every hit.”

“Good luck bending with charred hands,” Keith agreed, glowering into the fire.

And on that happy note, they parted for bed. Allura and Pidge in one tent; Keith and Shiro in another; and Hunk and Lance in the last one.

But Lance didn’t want leave this world in the middle of the night while asleep. He waited until Hunk was snoring and then waited a little bit more before he finally crept out into the moon-lit night.

There was a river just by the camp, and he was determined, concussion or not, to at least try to waterbend. He was here, he might as well.

Taking off his shoes and rolling up his pant legs, he waded into the river. Within ten minutes, he was able to get the water to move slightly upwards. Another ten minutes and he could almost get a little water tentacle a few inches out of the water.

“What are you doing out here?”

Lance jumped and the water tentacle fell back down into the river. Quickly, he turned around, but that turned out to be a huge mistake when his vision darkened for a second.

“Whoa, hey.” Keith was suddenly in front of him, holding him up, his arms wrapped tightly around Lance’s waist. Their faces were very close to each other.

“Uh, hey,” he stammered out, heart pounding.

Keith led him back to the river bank, but still didn’t let go. He repeated, “What are you doing out here?”

Lance blushed. “Just, um, trying to make sure I can still…bend…”

His sadistic mind conjured up pictures of _bending_. Over a table, over a couch, over—

 _No, dammit_ , he thought firmly, shaking his head a bit. His knees buckled at the vertigo. _Clearly, you’re not with this Keith in this reality. Don’t think those things, perv._

“You shouldn’t be over exerting yourself,” Keith whispered as one of his hands moved to rest of Lance’s hips. “You need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine,” he slurred.

“You better be.”

Then—and honestly, he really shouldn’t be surprised at this by now—Keith leaned in and kissed him.

“You really scared me back there,” he whispered, moving his hand from Lance’s hip to his cheek.

“S-Sorry.”

“No, don’t.” He pulled back, looking angry, but not at Lance. “Stop apologizing. We all should be apologizing to you, Lance. You told us and none of us listened. _I_ didn’t listen.” He sighed. “I know I said we need keep this thing between us a secret, but…”

Licking his lips nervously, Lance prompted, “…but?”

He rested his forehead against Lance’s. “But sometimes I wish we didn’t have to. When Pidge finally got all that rubble off of you, I…I almost couldn’t stop myself from running to you and just…just _holding_ you. I really thought you were dead for a minute there.”

“Remind me again why we can’t,” Lance pleaded quietly, wiping away Keith’s tears with his thumb.

Keith made a pained noise and pressed Lance closer to him. “You mean like how there’s a war going on and we can’t afford any sorts of distractions? How the Fire Nation doesn’t allow for two men to love each other?”

The Avatar world was homophobic? Well, that’s just really shitty. What gives, universe?

He continued, voice breaking, “How I’m just a Fire Nation commoner while you’re the son of the Southern Water Tribe’s chief? Allura’s the princess of the Northern Water Tribe; if anyone’s destined to be together, it’s you two.”

Before Lance could respond, Keith was leaning in again, kissing him slowly and holding him like he could break at any moment.

Which, considering he had a concussion and had been unconscious for nearly a whole day already, that was entirely possible.

“We should get back, before our tent-mates notice we’re gone,” Keith whispered. He said the words like it was the worst idea in the world, but there was also no other choice for them.

Perhaps that was truly how it was in this reality, but Lance didn’t want to disappear in his sleep. Not when Keith was here and holding him.

“Just a few more minutes?” he asked. “I don’t want to leave you yet.”

Keith huffed out a laugh. “Well…when you put it that way…”

They kissed and kissed and kept kissing deep into the night. No one stirred; not one rustle came from the tents behind them. Eventually they had to sit down because Lance’s legs would not keep holding him up.

He enjoyed the muffled surprise from Keith when he swung his leg over and straddled Keith’s lap. Gently rocking their bodies together. He greatly enjoyed the tremble in Keith’s arms that encircled him and the tightness from Keith’s fingers digging into his back. When he pulled at Keith’s hair and he outright moaned, Lance really, really enjoyed that.

But it couldn’t last.

Finally, Lance felt it. The sway. He tried to ignore it, tried to just keep kissing Keith, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it. Just before he completely submerged, he heard himself whispered, “Wow, what a way to wake up.”

He wondered of he’d wake up again.

He did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up:  
> Soulmate AU  
> Galtean AU  
> College AU ( **NSFW** )
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	8. Black: My World if He’s Not There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU
> 
> Or: Lance and the Chapter That Doesn't Feature His Soulmate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this chapter has zero to do with [my other Soulmate AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522304) since I wrote this chapter before writing that series, but I'd appreciate it if you check it out ^_^
> 
> Also, Lance’s full name for this reality taken from [this post here](https://aminoapps.com/c/voltron-legendary-defenders/page/blog/psa-cuban-lance/Kg0e_z2fMuLNMZlmQQgr1o648nWbYEplvM), which basically says, if you don’t want to go read it, “And a really cool [and appropriate Cuban name] headcannon is that LANCE is actually an acronym for: Leandro Alejandro Nunez Cuesta Espinosa.”

Something was seriously wrong.

Lance stared at the world around him, blinking hard.

It didn’t change.

He squinted, rubbed his eyes, and tapped his temples with the palms of his hands a few times.

No change.

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and cleared his throat.

Again, not a single change; everything was still in _black and white_.

…Was he in some sort of an old movie or something?

“EY! Get out of the road, dumbass!”

A car horn blared, several times, and in that moment, Lance, realized one, he was standing in the middle of the crosswalk, two, no one else was round him, and three, there was a mullet on the other side of the street that he thought he recognized. Quickly, he ran out of the road and towards the mullet.

“Hey! Hey, wait, K—!”

It wasn’t Keith.

“S-Sorry,” he stammered, letting go of the girl’s shoulder like he’d been burned. “I thought you—You look—I, um—”

The girl rolled her eyes and, without saying a word, walked away, disappearing into the gray-colored crowd.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand frantically through his hair as he looked around. He didn’t recognize anyone or anything around him. “Where the hell am I…?”

His pocket buzzed. Moving so fast he nearly dropped his phone, he opened and stared at the message.

**_ Hunk of Burning Casserole  
_ ** **_[12:03PM]: where r u? let’s have lunch 2gether :)_ **

Hunk of Burning Casserole…well, that could only be one person, yeah? It could only be his _número uno_ , bestest friend in the whole wide world, the one and only, Tsuyoshi “Hunk” Garrett!

…Okay, so _maybe_ it could’ve been someone else, but come on. It was a _pun_. A food-and- _song_ -related pun. Plus, the name was literally right there in the contact ID! It _had_ to be the funniest, most wonderful friend in the entire universe, plus the greatest cook in the entire universe too, the one and only Hunk! This "Hunk" was clearly, obviously, and with an entire 99.999% certainty _his_ Hunk.

(He hoped.)

Lance looked around again, trying to find a street sign or some landmark that could tell him where he was. He was definitely in a city considering he was completely surrounded by tall buildings and bustling crowds and giant billboards…but everything seemed to blended together in this black and white world. Nothing was indistinguishable from anything else.

His phone buzzed again.

**_  
_ ** **_[12:06 PM]: i kno u saw that mssg lance  
[12:06 PM]: read receipts rmember?  
[12:06 PM]: come on man answer me i just got outta class and im hungry :(_ **

He looked around again, and that’s when he saw it. A cute little café across the street. Something about it called out to him, unlike the other buildings around it. He couldn’t put his finger on why…but then, he saw the name.

Grinning, he quickly typed out his message to Hunk of Burning Casserole.

****

**_[12:07 PM] I’m about to go into Altea Bookshop, Coffee, and Delights_ **

****

By the time he crossed the street and stood in front of the building, Hunk had texted him again.

**_  
_ ** **_[12:07 PM] oh yeah! forgot that opened last week  
[12:08 PM] ok i found the address ill b there in 10 ish_ **

Taking a deep breath, Lance pushed the handle and walked in. The door chimed, its melody ringing a bit too loudly in his ears. He felt like he stepped into another dimension. The noise from the street seemed to melt away, merging into the faint, folky music that was emitting from the speakers. Even the stress pressing down on his shoulders lightened slightly. 

“Welcome to Altea!” a voice boomed. “How can I help you, young man?”

The voice was startlingly familiar and Lance jolted as he turned to face the man.

 _“C-Coran?”_

The man was in black and white, and lacked his usual alien markings under his eyes, but there was no denying that the person before him was indeed Coran. He wore dress pants, suspenders, a bow tie, and a graphic T-shirt that appeared to be an image of space, but it was hard to tell in black and white. Suddenly, it made sense why the place seemed to be in its own dimensional pocket. Coran had that feeling about him, even back in Lance’s own reality and even despite being an alien.

As tears formed in Lance’s eyes, he realized he hadn’t seen his old friend at all so far during his reality traveling—unless you counted see him as a giant, flying orange cat, which Lance didn’t. This could be the last time they could communicate with each other.

“That is indeed my name, young man, good eyesight!” He winked, taping on his name tag that Lance hadn’t even noticed before. “You look a bit hungry; can I offer you something to eat from my fine dining establishment?”

Wiping his eyes quickly, Lance walked up to the counter.

“Oh. Um, I’m actually waiting for a friend, but he’ll be here soon.”

“Wonderful! Then, how about a refreshment while you wait?”

“I’d like that,” he agreed with a grin.

Glancing, at the menu on the wall behind Coran’s head, he felt that grin slowly slip away. He blinked, but again, no change. The words on the wall remained as some of the most absurd name combinations he’d ever seen. They gave away nothing as to what the drink was. Like, what could possibly be in the “Beautiful Balmera Blend”? Or, better yet, what the hell was the "Old Crop Olkarion"? There weren’t even any pictures to go with it!

“I’ll…I’ll just take a regular coffee…please."

Coran laughed, a booming sound that reverberated off every wall in the shop.

“My dear boy, we don’t sell regular coffee at Altea!” he explained, his eyes twinkling. “ _But_ you look like a man who can handle the special of the week with grace and strength! Would you like to try that?”

“Uh, okay then.” He glanced around. But couldn’t find the sign that presented what the special of the week even was. “I’ll have your special please.”

“One Gorgeous Man Americano, coming up! I named it after myself, of course.” He winked, twirling his mustache in a way that would’ve looked like a villainous plot scheme had anyone else had done it. “May I have your name?”

“Lance.”

Well, he hoped that was his name in this reality. So far, none of his other selves had had a different name.

Coran jotted down the name.

“Take a seat, Lance, anywhere you like. I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

Looking around for a suitable table, he realized that there were places to sit _all_ around the shop, not just in the café area, but also in the bookshop area too. Still, he opted for a small table by the front door, where he could watch out for Hunk and keep an eye on Coran and not accidently spill something on a book and then have to pay for it. How much money did this reality Lance have anyway?

…Shit, he should’ve thought about that before _buying_ something! Stupid.

Quickly, he browsed through his phone, recognizing a few gaming apps, though not what the games were, but didn’t find any banking apps. Even searching through his wallet turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. He did clarify his name: Leandro Alejandro Nunez Cuesta Espinosa, which wasn’t quite his real name, but close enough. There were some credit cards (oh, thank god!) and gift cards, but no pictures or notes or anything more personal.

Just as he returned his wallet to his pocket, Coran popped up, gently setting his coffee down with a grin.

“By the way,” he started, leaning against the table with one hand. “I don’t mean to impose, but have you met your Soulmate yet?”

“My…what?”

Lance knew what the word meant—he’d read enough romance novels and even wrote a few fanfictions in his youth—but it still took him a moment to actually understand what Coran was asking him.

With a chuckle, Coran continued, waving his hand, “Oh, I know you kids these days have all sorts of other words for it. Like glorbuff—” Lance was pretty positive that was _not_ a word the kids in this reality would ever use for any reason “—but I’m still a fan of the good ol’ Soulmate. The one who makes your world burst into color and your heart burst into song.”

Makes your world burst into color?

“Um, no,” Lance said, mostly guessing. “I haven’t met my Soulmate yet.”

“Well, you’re in luck then!” Coran beamed, handing over a pamphlet. “Altea is going to open a Soulmate Bar next week, so that all those who haven’t met their destined one can come and mingle and try to find them here!”

Lance looked at the pamphlet. If he could’ve actually seen it, he just knows it would be splattered with vibrant, mismatching colors. It repeated most of what Coran had already said, but it also mentioned a free drink to anyone who found their Soulmate, it would be held once a month on the second Saturday of every month, and you had to be eighteen or older to attend.

“Thanks,” he said, sincerely, hoping that the actual Lance of this reality could find it useful.

Before he could pocket the flyer, the door chimed again and in walked an older, more frazzled-looking Hunk.

“Welcome, young man!” Coran boomed, spreading his arms wide and startling Lance so badly that had he been holding his scalding coffee, it would’ve split all over his hands.

“H-Hi,” Hunk stuttered out, looking like a deer in the headlights at Coran’s enthusiasm.

“Can I get you something to drink? A coffee, a tea, a milkshake?”

He caught Lance’s eye, asking a silent question.

“I got the special. The, um, Gorgeous Man Americano,” he said, picking up his drink.

“Okay, uh, I’ll take that, please. Sir.”

“Coming right up! And there’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ my boy. Coran the Gorgeous Man will do just fine.”

As Coran scurried off, Hunk made his way over to Lance, dropping his backpack with a heavy _THUNK_ and plopping down in the seat like the world rested on his shoulders.

“You okay, buddy?” Lance asked.

Involuntarily, he tensed. Last time he called someone ‘buddy’ without waiting to get a feel of their relationship first, he’d almost ruined a child’s relationship with his father. Dante and his Papa Lance’s father-son relationship could’ve been in shambles! All because Lance didn’t think about how different realities meant different relationship dynamics.

(…Okay, so that was a _little_ dramatic…but, fuck it! Lance is still out there _dying_ somewhere, so a little theatrics and overthinking won’t hurt him any more than he already hurt himself.)

“Grad school is just really kicking my ass,” Hunk groaned, taking a hand to his shoulder to rub out some of the stress knots. “I don’t know why I didn’t think it’s be this hard, but…”

He paused, eyes settling on the flyer Lance had forgotten to put in his pocket.

“Soulmate Bar?” he muttered, completely losing his train of thought. “Huh.”

Lance handed the flyer over. “Yeah, apparently Altea will hold a Soulmate Bar once a month.”

“Oh, cool! You get a free drink if you find them, too!” Hunk set the pamphlet back down, his eyes twinkling. “Too bad I met Shay last semester, huh? Would’ve been nice to get a free drink after seeing her, instead of one thrown in my face.”

“Uh, _what_?”

But Hunk didn’t seem to have heard him. With a groan, he propped his elbow up on the table and leaned his face into his palm.

“Man, her brother _still_ doesn’t like me,” he complained. “She’s told him, like, a hundred times, that _she_ was the one who leaned in to kiss me after the Color happened, but he _still_ thinks I was trying to take advantage of his sister! Her parents like me though, so that’s good…”

He blinked.

“Oh, shit, sorry, Lance, I just realized I never got the chance to ask how you’re doing!” He shook his head, as if disappointed in himself. “Sorry, I just saw all those bright colors and got completely distracted. Still not used to it, you know? Well, I mean, of course you don’t know, uh, _yet_! You will soon though, I’m sur _rraahhh_!”

“Can I get you boys anything to eat?” Coran asked brightly, completely oblivious to how he’d just about given Hunk a heart attack.

Lance’s heart pounded frantically in his chest too. Seriously, it was like Coran had just _materialized_ right before them! He had to force himself to unclench and relax again. Had this body been used to moment of fight-or-die, he's pretty sure he would've taken the cup of coffee before him and swung it at Coran instead of just seizing up in a tense freeze.

“O-Oh. Uh, yes please,” Hunk stuttered, hand still clutching his chest. “Where… Um, where are your menus?”

Coran pointed at the wall behind the counter: “Right over there, my boy.”

“Thanks.” Hunk took a deep breath, calming himself, before he turned to the wall and squinted for a few minutes. “Okay, I’ll have the…number four.”

“Same, please,” Lance said, not bothering to look at the menu.

If Hunk was choosing it, the chance that it was delicious was way higher than the chance it wasn’t. Plus, he couldn’t really see the words with his black-and-white vision.

“Hey, uh, speaking of Soulmates and Shay’s parents,” Hunk started awkwardly once Coran had left again. “I have a…proposition for you.”

“A proposition?” he repeated, frowning slightly.

“Please don’t say no,” Hunk quickly pleaded.

Lance chuckled.

“Well, I can’t exactly say yes if I don’t know what it is,” he reminded.

Hunk looked at him guiltily. The amusement that had been bubbling up within him dissipated. This was actually really eating away at Hunk.

“It’s just that…I kinda…” he fiddled with his hands nervously. “I kinda already promised that you’d do it…”

“Hunk,” he said quietly. Seriously. “What did you promise?”

Is Hunk in some sort of trouble? Is Lance? Are they in some sort of _gang_?

“It’s a…” he squeezed his eyes shut briefly. “I, um…”

“ _Hunk_ ,” Lance emphasized.

“Okay, but _please_ do it!” he begged, his voice squeaker than usual. “I know what you said when I brought this up last time, but I _really_ _think_ this will be good, it’ll be good for you so _please_ don’t be mad at me, it’s just as your best friend of, like, a _bajillion_ _years_ , I think I know what’s best for yo—”

“Hunk,” Lance interrupted firmly. “Just tell me what it is.”

“I set you up on a blind date!”

Lance blinked.

A…A _blind date_?

That’s it?

No gangs, no war, no life-threatening emergencies?

Just a blind date?

Lance released a breathe he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“I know,” Hunk hastily continued. “I know you said you want to meet your soulmate naturally, but seriously, this guy is _so_ your type. He and his brother do yard work for Shay’s parents and I met them last week and then I actually met them again yesterday ‘cause they’re friends with Pidge—you remember Pidge, yeah? She’s in my class and super smart, smarter than me, and anyway, I just really think you’ll get along with him, and so Pidge and I set up the date for tomorrow and he doesn’t know about it, but I just didn’t want to surprise you with this and—”

“Hunk, _breathe_ ,” Lance urged, grabbing his hand. After a few minutes, when he was no longer hyperventilating, Lance promised, “I’m not mad, Hunk. It’s okay.”

“Oh, thank god!”

Lance squeezed his hand reassuringly before taking it away. He hoped he didn’t just make a big mistake. He truly wasn’t mad, but he also wasn’t this Lance. Maybe this reality’s Lance would be absolutely livid, but he wasn’t here right now, and Lance couldn’t just watch his best friend almost have a panic attack as his anxiety kept rising and rising and rising.

“Why don’t you tell me his name,” he said softly, offering a small smile to Hunk.

Hunk smiled back, clearly relieved.

“His name is Keith.”

Lance froze.

“K- _Keith_?” he repeated.

Hunk’s smile wavered. “Uh, yeah…is that bad?”

Bad?

 _Bad_??

No, it wasn’t _bad_.

It was quite the opposite of _bad_.

There was a reality where Lance and Keith were destined, literally _destined_ , to be together—because what other Keith could Hunk be talking about? And after all the other realities he’s visited, what else could happen except Lance’s world bursting into color as soon as he saw Keith’s eyes? Nothing else, that’s what.

It really did seem like he and Keith were meant to be together in every reality except his own.

If only he hadn’t been such a dense idiot. If only he’d realized what that stupid ‘rivalry’ he’d made up was actually about sooner.

If only he’d acted on it.

He really should’ve made the connection way before meeting Keith—he had quite the nasty habit in his youth of creating ‘rivalries’ with some of the boys he wanted to be friends with and then nursing a broken heart when those boys ended up hating him for it. He didn’t do that with all boys, no. Just ones with bright eyes, dark hair, and a stubborn streak.

(In essence, boys he found to be very attractive—he clearly had a type.)

No one had ever told him that you could like girls _and_ boys, just one or the other. He had no idea that was a possibility until he was up in space, talking to a cute alien girl who’d been flirting with him and then also flirting with an alien girl beside him. She was the one who’d told him about bisexuality, about liking people despite, or even because of, what was between their legs.

“Lance?” Hunk whispered, bringing him out of his trance. He looked scared. “Lance, please don’t be mad at me…”

“I’m not mad at you,” he quickly assured. “I’m just…”

How could he explain that he was simultaneously excited to meet Keith, the man he both knew intimately and not at all, and devastated to meet Keith, the man who was destined for him in this reality, but not in his own. And, technically, _he_ wouldn’t even be meeting Keith! The longest time he’d ever stayed in a reality was in Harry Potter’s, and he hadn’t even had lunch there before he'd swayed away!

…But he couldn’t tell Hunk any of that. He’d told himself he wouldn’t interfere with the realities he was traveling to any more than he already was. It for his and the reality’s protection.

“I’m just feeling a lot of things right now,” he finished lamely.

It seemed enough for Hunk.

“Oh, good,” he breathed out, his body sagging. A few of the lines on his face disappeared as he closed his eyes and relaxed into the chair.

“The number four!” Coran announced loudly, scaring them once again, though, this time, without Hunk’s scream. “Enjoy, my boys!”

After a moment's pause, Hunk grabbed his spoon to taste the soup. He moaned pleasantly at the first taste, eyes rolling into the back of his head, as he immediately began eating more quickly.

Carefully, Lance brought a spoonful up to his lips—and damn, Hunk was fucking right! Lance let out his own moan as he hastily scooped more into his mouth.

“Shit, this is amazing,” he said between bites.

He couldn’t even describe what it was, but the broth was a creamy red with just the right amount of spice to tingle his tongue without overpowering the other ingredients, which he couldn’t name. Honestly, it tasted like…it tasted like _home._

“We’re definitely coming here again,” Hunk agreed, tearing off a piece of bread to dip into the soup.

They didn’t talk again until their bowls were cleared and stomachs pleasantly full.

“So, how was your day?” Hunk asked as they browsed the bookshelves, not yet wanting to leave even after paying for their meal. “Better than mine, I hope.”

Lance made a noncommittal noise as he answered, “It wasn’t bad. How was yours?”

Hunk groaned and immediately started complaining about his latest engineering project. Lance only half-listened, mostly grateful to take the spotlight off himself. He’d no idea how his actual day had gone. Had he spilled coffee on himself? Tripped over his shoelaces? Was he late for work? What did he even _do_ for work? Not a clue.

“And, ugh, I swear, if Professor Iverson says _one more thing_ about my design…!”

Lance hummed, agreeing with Hunk’s indignation absentmindedly while pulling a random book off the shelf to admire the cover. It was of the night sky, full of stars and a crescent moon, reflected in a body of water. Two figures were sitting by the edge of the water, their backs to Lance, as they stared up at the sky.

“Ah yes,” Coran said over his shoulder, once again causing Lance and Hunk to jump out of their skins, gasping out a quiet shout. He continued on though, as if nothing were amiss. “Beautiful isn’t it? It’s a notebook, to fill your dreams in.”

Carefully, Lance opened the book. The pages were blank, only filled with tiny stars in neat horizontal rows while a copy of the crescent moon was found in the top right and bottom left corners of each page.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “How much?”

Coran grinned, and it was much softer, much more knowing than before.

“It’s on the house,” he said. “I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

Lance wasn’t sure what he meant, wasn’t sure if Coran was referring to him or the him that was supposed to be in this body, but he merely nodded.

“Thank you.”

“How much for this?” Hunk asked, pulling off a different notebook.

The cover was of a mountain range with a field of flowers in the foreground while a dazzling sun filled the sky. When Lance looked a bit closer, he realized that the flowers weren’t actually flowers, but rather crystals with stems. He wished he could’ve seen what it looked like in color.

“It’s on the house too,” Coran said. “Congratulations on finding your Soulmate, my boy.”

“Thank yo—Wait, how did you know that?!”

But Coran had already disappeared again.

“That was so weird…”

Lance shrugged. “I have a feeling he’s just like that.”

Hunk hummed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Ready?”

“One sec…”

Lance grabbed a pen and quickly jotted down a message in the cover of the notebook.

_A journal to fill your dreams in  
-Coran @ Altea Bookshop, Coffee, and Delights_

_Lance, go on that blind date. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me._  
Sincerely,  
Lance, from a different set of stars

Then, after a pause, he added:

_P.S. His name is Keith and he’ll probably have a mullet. I know, I know, but get used to it. It’ll probably take him a couple years to grow it out. It’ll be worth it though. And you’ll even miss the mullet a little bit too._

“What are you doing?”

Quickly, Lance shut the notebook, hoping the ink wouldn’t smear.

“N-Nothing!” he stuttered, whirling to face Hunk.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing~” Hunk teased, reaching for the notebook.

Somehow, Lance managed to snake his way out of Hunk’s arms and towards the door.

“It’s just a little note! For myself,” he said, pushing the door open. “It’s personal.”

Hunk laughed. “Okay, guess I’ll just wait for you to get drunk and tell me all about it.”

“That’s rude.” Lance pouted. “You’re really going to betray sober me’s trust like that?”

Hunk laughed again. “Buddy, you know I don’t even ask; you just willingly share it!”

Guess that was one of those universe facts about their friendship.

With a sigh, Lance walked out the door, Hunk on his heels.

“Whatever. That’ll be a problem for future Lance,” he said.

Then, as if the universe heard him, he felt himself sway.

“And I can’t wait to be there for it,” Hunk was saying, his tone light and teasing.

“Yeah…there for what?”

And that was the last thing Lance heard before he was once again in the dark void.

He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up:  
> Galtean AU  
> College AU ( **NSFW** )  
> Disney AU: Kim Possible ( **NSFW** )
> 
> \--
> 
>  **PLEASE BE ADVISED:** Due to personal reasons, chapter 9 will not be posted until Friday, February 14. Thanks for understanding <3
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	9. You Saved Me Once and Now I'll Save You Too // I Won't Hesitate for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galtean AU 
> 
> Or: Lance is Razzled, Dazzled, and Kissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning Note: Check out [Sunny’s art](https://ikimaru.tumblr.com/post/174291200160/someone-asked-for-more-galra-keith-8) for my idea of how Keith looks in this fic! (And if you aren’t following her on tumblr/insta/twitter, seriously, go do it now! Her art is just PERFECTION! I have literally cried over it before, no shame, dude, no. fucking. shame!!
> 
> So…apology time! 
> 
> I know I said I would post this 2/14, but life got in the way and made me super busy, and then my cat’s surgery didn’t end up going well, and life got even busier. I don’t want to get into it too much, but he’s fine, for now. My bank account…not so much >.<; 
> 
> Chapter 10 is already written out though! And 11 just needs to be edited :3 I hope this long break doesn’t happen again,,

“—and Lance you will accompany Allura on this evening.”

Lance blinked as the words hit his ears and the bright lights hit his eyes.

Eyes… He could see again! The world wasn’t in gray-scale anymore; everything was _colorful_!

“Father, I really do not think this will be necessary.”

“Allura, it is entirely necessary! Lance _will_ chaperone you.”

Turning to the sound of Allura’s— _Allura’s_ —voice, Lance tried not to drop his jaw.

She was wearing a long, elegant _light pink_ gown with a dazzling gold crown atop her silver hair. Not only was she beautiful, but she was _colorful_ too. The types of colors Lance had never seen before, and he’d been to several planets around the universe, not to mention that he was, you know, currently traveling across different realities too, so seeing colors he’d never known to exist was a pretty big deal, especially since he’d been basically colorblind to the max in the last reality.

Not only were the colors around him unique, but so was the room he was standing in. It was spacious, but filled with floating lights, shimmering banners, and some sort of flying, mystic birds. The room itself seemed to be accented with misty rainbows, though Lance wasn’t sure how they pulled that off without any water.

As he glanced around the room, his eyes zeroed on in the body standing beside Allura and he physically had to hold himself back from stepping forward and pushing the two apart.

It was _Lotor_. He wore a crown, though his was black, not gold. His clothes were so clean and pristine, way more than they’d ever been in Lance’s own reality. This Lotor seemed much more like the esteemed half-Galra prince Lance had first imagined him to be.

Behind Lotor stood…oh, _no way_ , that was—

“ _Lance_.”

His head whipped to the front of the room, where a giant throne sat. Atop it was Allura’s father, also known as Alfor, _King of Altea_ …and he was speaking to _Lance_.

“My son, are you paying any attention?”

…His _who_?

“Um, _what_?” he squeaked. “I m-mean, yes? I…I am paying att—”

Mercifully, Allura interrupted him.

“Of course, he’s not paying attention, father!” she cried out, throwing her hands in the air. “You’re asking him to chaperone his older sister on her quicknacking _date_!”

Her quicknacking _what_?

…Wait, hold up, his older _who_?!

“Allura!” King Alfor scolded.

…Well, no actually. Not _King_ Alfor; not if what Allura said was true.

It wasn’t _King_ Alfor; it was _father_ Alfor…because Alfor was Lance’s _dad_ in this reality.

(What the actual **_fuck_**.)

He glanced back over towards Allura, his _sister_. (God, that was so weird. He had the biggest crush on her as a teen in his own reality, but here, they were _siblings_. Eugh! He definitely did _not_ have the time to process or unpack any of that. Quickly, he shoved the thought in the back of his mind.) She didn’t look any different from how she did in his reality. Same starlit hair, same defiant blue eyes and sharp cheek bones. She did hold herself with even more confidence though. Could’ve been because her planet _hadn’t_ been obliterated while she was in a 10,000-year coma. Probably had something to do that.

If she didn’t look any different, maybe _he_ did instead. Like, maybe his hair was silver too… And he was bound to have more Altean marks, right? He wondered what they looked like, if they were still the same color blue that his Allura had given him. Where else would they be on his body?

(…like…was there any designs on his di—?)

Someone shifted in the background, and Lance’s eyes slid past Allura to where another familiar face stood. The one he’d been rudely interrupted from admiring a few ticks ago.

 _Keith_.

 _Galra_ Keith, to be exact.

He stood stiffly, back completely straight, but there was a slight smirk curled on his purple lips. He was a few steps behind Lotor in a suit that looked almost-but-not-quite like a Blade suit. It was as though he needed to look presentable while at the same time be able to charge into battle at any time…which maybe he did. Maybe he was Lotor’s bodyguard or something. Considering Keith was currently purple, furry, and sporting a tail with big fluffy ears and yellow eyes, that was a high possibility.

Allura suddenly spoke up again, her voice much softer, as if she remembered that she wasn’t having a private conversation between just her and her father. (Or…between her, Lance, and _their_ father…which was, again, an extremely weird thought that he didn’t have time to really think about.)

Bowing her head, she murmured, “My apologies, father. Forgive my outburst. It’s just that I had hoped my mother would have been here to chaperone me. To watch me court my future husband.”

She said it as if she’s used that excuse before, but that she wished she didn’t need to. Lance wondered what had happened to her mother. Their mother?

“I understand, my daughter. It is alright.” His smile was tender, loving. Something unspoken passed between him and Allura, but Lance couldn’t make out what it was. “Now, why don’t you two go enjoy a walk in the garden. Zarkon and I have much to discuss.”

Lance jerked, and for the first time noticed that it wasn’t just Alfor siting up there. Zarkon was too, as well as the witch, Hagg—

No, wait.

Neither of them looked corrupted and degraded from a quest for more and more quintessence. This wasn’t the 10,000-year-old tyrant, Zarkon who destroyed Altea with the help of his quintessence hungry wife-turned-witch Haggar. This was Emperor Zarkon of Daibazaal and his scientist-wife Honerva of Altea.

There was a familiar-looking Galra standing behind Zarkon’s (shorter) throne. It took a second, but Lance soon recognized him to be Shiro. It helped that he had a tuff of white hair and a nose scar. He wore an outfit similar to Keith’s, though it was just slightly fancier. He didn’t look too bad as a Galra, but Lance couldn’t help but shiver at the thought that after everything his Shiro had been through at the hands of them, he wouldn’t appreciate being one of them. Lance decided that if by some sort of miracle he actually woke up back in his reality, he wouldn’t tell Shiro of this version of him. He’s probably like the other versions of him though, especially the one where he was a paramedic.

On the other side of Zarkon sat a woman with long, flowing brown hair, brown skin, and yellow Vs under her soft, brown eyes. She wore a small silver crown and an elegant dress that was yellow and white.

 _Mamá_ , Lance realized with sharp gasp.

That was _his_ mother, from _his_ reality! At the sight of her, he suddenly had a million and one things he wanted to say to her, but before he anything could pass his lips, Allura was speaking again.

“Thank you, father,” she said, bowing again.

Lotor also bowed, much lower than Allura’s had been, before offering his arm to Allura with a gentle smile. She took it and they gracefully exited out of the room. Keith bowed as well and followed the duo after they’d already past him a few steps. Lance moved to do the same, but—

“Lance.”

He turned, hoping his expression didn’t betray how nervous he felt at hearing his name being called like that. In the middle of a throne room. By his father. The _king_.

“Please do pay attention this time, my son,” Alfor said, his eyes twinkling even if his voice was firm.

“O-Of course. Yes, sir—father. Father, I will, father,” he affirmed, stumbling over the words like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time.

The pit in his stomach dissolved at Alfor’s loud, boisterous laughter.

“Lance, son, there is no need to be so nervous. It is merely their first date as betrothed. Think of it as getting to know your future brother-in-law. And it can be practice for when it’s your turn in a few phoeb’s time.”

“Don’t tease him so, dear,” his mama chimed in. “He still has deca-phoebs before he needs to worry about that.”

“Not with the way Queen Luxia has been writing,” Alfor reminded her. “It seems that her daughter, Princess Plaxum is just about ready to come of age too, and she wants to know if we’d be willing to come to an arrangement.”

“Plaxum?” Lance repeated. “The _mermaid_?”

“Lance, my love,” his mama said, her voice stern but with a hint of amusement. “Isn’t there a date you much chaperon?”

“Oh! R-Right. Yes…”

Alfor laughed again. “Your mother is right, son, do no worry of any of this. At least, not until _after_ your sister’s wedding.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Bowing awkwardly, Lance quickly exited the room, surprised to see Allura, Lotor, and Keith waiting for him outside.

“Did father tell you to pay attention to us?” Allura asked as soon as the doors were closed.

“Yes…” he trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

He was the youngest of four in his reality, so he knew that Allura was about to say something that directly went against what their parents (well, parent in this case) had just requested of them. He waited expectantly.

She nodded.

“Thought so. Do me a favor and don’t.”

Lance faked an affronted gasp. “Allura! Are you telling me to disobey a direct order from our father, the _king_?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him slightly. Lance laughed.

It was definitely weird that he was blood-related to someone he used to crush on, but at least their friendship transferred over well. They were probably much closer in this reality, considering they were siblings and all.

(Another thing to add to his list of Do Not Think About. He’d been doing a decent job at forgetting he was dying in his own reality, so what’s adding one more item?)

“So, this is how the royal siblings behave when they’re not in the spotlight,” Lotor commented, looking amused.

It wasn’t said in a sadistic way, like Lance had partially expected. If anything, he looked at them with longingly and a bit of envy.

“Oh, we’re much worse,” Allura admitted freely. “Why, just last week, I crushed up some valdot berries and put them in his soap. Lance was entirely blue for three days!”

Lotor snorted at that, as did Keith, though he hid it quickly.

“You wouldn’t think it was so funny if it happened to you,” Lance grumbled, thankful he hadn’t actually gone through that experience.

“Lance, you are nearly eighteen deca-phoebs, are you not?” Lotor asked.

Shit, Lance had no idea.

“Uh, yes,” he said, hoping he wasn’t about to out himself as not-this-reality’s Lance.

“His birthday is in one phoeb, actually,” Allura said. “There will be a grand party for it, but why talk about my brother when you could ask about me?”

Lance faked another affronted gasp. “How rude!”

Allura stuck her tongue out, but turned back to Lotor, taking his arm once again. Lance watched them glide gracefully down the hall, chatting—no, no, _flirting_ —amicably and unabashedly.

“They act like they’d never met each other before,” Keith muttered, rolling his eyes. Then, as soon as they turned the corner, he begrudgingly added, “Come on, before we get in trouble.”

He started after them, hands tucked behind his back and tail swishing. After a moment, Lance realized he was supposed to be walking too. He scrambled to catch up.

“You doing okay?” Keith asked, his eyes trained ahead of him, where Allura and Lotor were.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answered, except he immediately negated his words when he caught sight of himself in a mirror and tripped.

“Whoa, hey,” Keith said, his hands automatically wrapping around Lance’s arm to keep him upright.

Lance couldn’t even feel the heat of Keith’s hands on him as his jaw dropped and eyes widened in complete awe. He stared at himself in the mirror, unable to tear his gaze away.

 _That_ was him? _Him_??

Surely not, because the person in the mirror was absolutely, breath-takingly _handsome_!

His hair was _silver_ , just like Allura’s. He wore an elegant pantsuit with a singular jewel hanging from one of his pointed ears. There was a hint of blue coiling on his neck, just peeking out from the color of his outfit, that was the same color as the blue Vs under his eyes.

“Yes, yes, you look sooooo handsome,” Keith deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “Stop getting so distracted, if we lose them, we’ll be in trouble again.”

“R-Right,” he stammered out, forcing him eyes to look elsewhere.

It had not been a good idea to look at Keith instead of the mirror.

He looked so much… _fluffier_ at this short distance. Lance had to actively force his hand down so he didn’t reach up to touch Keith’s giant ears. Plus, somehow, his eyes were even _more purple_ than before. Maybe it was because the whites of his eyes were yellow, or maybe because his purple fur accented his eyes more than his pale skin did. Either way, Keith somehow managed to look absolutely adorable while also hot as fu—

“What are you looking at?” Keith asked, brows furrowed. His ears even twitched in tandem. “Is there something on my face?”

“Wha—? N-No!” Quickly, Lance took a step backwards, hands raised in surprise. “No, I just… Sorry, no, it’s nothing; come on, we can’t lose them!”

He marched forward, cursing himself for getting so distracted at his own damn reflection—something the other Lance would’ve seen for _years_ (obviously)—and then getting distracted at Keith’s appearance, which was another thing he was probably used to seeing. Keith seemed to think him and Lance watching over Allura and Lotor was a common occurrence, so they’ve had to do it at least…twice before? Yeah, that would make sense. Or maybe even three or four times. They’d definitely known each other for a while, at least.

As Lance turned the next corner, where the sunlight beamed through the open door, he reminded himself he wasn’t going to reveal his truth to any of the realities he was in, including this one. Sure, he did it in the Harry Potter reality with Dumbledore, but come on. It was _Dumbledore_. There wasn’t a Dumbledore here though. Only Keith and his cute fluffy little ears…

“Quiznack, it’s bright outside,” Keith muttered, shieling his eyes as he moved to stand beside Lance.

“Yeah,” he agreed, trying (and mostly succeeding) in pretending not to be in awe of how Altea looked. The castle ship’s simulation from his reality paled in comparison to how warm and colorful and sweet-smelling the planet was. “Where’d they go?”

“Pretty sure they’re by the gardens like usual. Come on.”

Sure enough, Allura and Lotor were resting on the soft green grass, leaning into each other and overlooking the brightly colored and oddly shaped flowers. They spoke in whispers, so quietly Lance didn’t think even Keith’s Galra ears could hear them.

Keith sat down behind them underneath a giant tree with a sigh.

“They’re so lucky,” he muttered.

“Lucky?” Lance repeated, slowly sitting down beside him.

“Yeah,” he sighed again. “They get to marry the love of their life. Not many royals can…or so you tell me.”

Lance hummed an outward agreement, but inwardly, he winced. He really hoped this conversation wasn’t about to turn into something he couldn’t keep up with, causing him to tell this Keith the truth. He’d literally just been reminding himself he wasn’t about to reveal the truth to anyone! Would this alternate reality even accept that he was…reality hopping? reality traveling? reality something. They wouldn’t do anything to this body would they? This was their prince’s body, even if their prince’s consciousness wasn’t in it.

…or was in it? But wasn’t…alert?

“Hey.”

Lance jerked at the hot hand grabbing his, stopping his thoughts in its track.

“Looked like you were getting lost in your thoughts again,” Keith explained, eyes soft as he faced him, squeezing his hand. Then, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“F-For what?” Lance whispered back.

Slowly, Keith brought his hand up to tenderly brush Lance’s hair back. His eyes were so big and soft, Lance wanted to reach out and kiss him. He could’ve done that when they were parents or elemental benders or mermaids. Maybe even as a Hogwarts student or high school student too. In those realities, both Keiths would’ve been surprised as hell, but they definitely would’ve kissed back. This Keith? Lance had no idea, but that didn’t stop him from still wanting to kiss those purple, fuzzy lips.

“You saved me from a life of misery and pain,” Keith reminded softly, his fingertips slowly dragging down Lance’s jaw. “You convinced Emperor Zarkon not to kill me and instead enlist me in his guard. _Me_ , a complete nobody, a nothing, as _Prince Lotor’s_ bodyguard. You did that for me, Lance. I told myself I would repay you—”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lance quickly interrupted, speaking before he could stop himself. “I don’t need payment for helping you.”

Keith smiled, seeming amused at Lance’s words.

“Yes, so you keep telling me,” he said. His smile slipped off his face. “But I would give anything in the world to save you from the suitors that you’ll be bombarded with in just a few phoeb’s time.”

Letting his hand fall down in his lap, Keith sighed dejectedly, and Lance couldn’t decide whether he should snatch Keith’s hand to put it back on his face, to hold it, or to kiss it.

Keith was talking before he could do either of those things.

“Allura and Lotor were blessed to have not only known each other before their betrothal, but they loved each other too. You won’t get that, Lance, and I…I _hate_ it.”

“Hate that I don’t know and love them already or hate that I’ll be betrothed in general?”

Lance meant it somewhat teasingly, but at the look Keith gave him, his heart dropped to his stomach and shattered. Keith eyes were wet and he was worrying at his bottom lip.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he whispered. “You _know_ …”

He didn’t finish, but Lance could guess what he was about to say.

Once again, Lance found himself desperately, angrily, wishing that it was not _his_ reality where Keith did not love him back, where it had taken him years to even realize he liked boys, let alone Keith. All these realities where he and Keith were drawn to each other, had actual _feelings_ for each other, and it wasn’t in _his_.

( _“Lance, I lo—”_ )

“Keith,” he said softly, moving to covering the purple hand with his own.

He was leaning forward…Keith was leaning forward…their eyes were closing…they were ki—

“Hey guys!”

“AHHH!”

They jerked apart from each other, yelping and scrambling to their feet.

Romelle stood before them, waving and giggling and seeming very much like who Lance remembered her to be in his own reality.

“Are you spying on Allura and Lortor? How’s their date going?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“W-We aren’t _spying_ ,” Keith snapped, flustered. His arms were crossed over his chest, but it didn’t deflect from the blush spreading across his cheeks. “We’re _tasked_ with watching them. By King Alfor. And it’s going great.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Keith scowled. “Yes, really.”

Romelle giggled again. “Then where are they?”

Lance froze, eyes wide. Slowly, he turned his head to where Allura and Lotor had been just a few seconds ago.

They weren’t there.

“Quiznack!” Keith cursed.

“Oopsie, looks like you lost my best friend and her boy toy~” Romelle sing-songed.

“We lost the princess and her betrothed!” Keith grabbed Lance’s hand. “Hurry, we gotta find them!”

Then, they were running. Lance wasn’t entirely sure where they were going, but he could recognize they were back in the castle. As Keith had them turn down yet another long, empty corridor, Lance felt that familiar sensation in his stomach and dug his heels in to the floor.

“W-Wait, stop,” he panted.

“What’s wrong?”

There wasn’t time to answer, but Lance wasn’t about to waste this opportunity, not after everything Keith had just said to him. Not bothering to be gentle, he took Keith’s face in his hands and surged forward, kissing him harshly.

Keith let out a high, surprised sound at first, but quickly began kissing Lance back in earnest. This kiss was nothing like the others. Even if Keith didn’t realize the full extent, he still knew there was an urgency to their actions, knew they had only moments to savor the feeling of their lips pressed together, their tongues brushing against the other, their bodies flushed together as their hands grasped each other like drowning men.

Lance kept sinking; no matter how hard he kissed Keith, he couldn’t stop himself from leaving. Just as the blackness almost overtook him, he heard Keith promise against his lips, “I’m not letting those suitors have you,” and then he was back in the void.

He wondered what would happen to that reality’s Lance and Keith. He hoped good things; he hoped that Keith could make good on his promise.

He woke up again, unsure what to expect after all that had happened, but he definitely hadn’t expected what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so y’all know, also Altean in this, though they don’t make an appearance, are Coran (royal advisor), Pidge (the royal tutor’s daughter), and Matt (the royal tutor’s son). Hunk is Balmarin and the royal cook’s apprentice. I planned on writing a little bit of Shatt in this, but couldn't make it work,, Also, in case it wasn't clear, Allura's mom died (when she was five) and after a few years, King Alfor married another woman, Lance's mom, and had him when Allura was seven. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming up:  
> College AU ( **NSFW** )  
> Disney AU: Kim Possible ( **NSFW** )  
> Hanahakai AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	10. I Want to Know Just How to Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College AU
> 
> Or: Lance Finally Gets More Than Just a Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed the hyperlink in the previous chapter! Sorry for that complication earlier ^-^;
> 
> Okay, so great news! We're getting into some more smut in this chapter! Wahooooooooo!!!! (Feel free to skip, if that’s not your scene, though tbh if it’s not, why are you here? Not judging, just curious…)
> 
> Also, for the sake of this fic, Keith’s birthday is in April ~~which for some reason is when I thought his birthday was don’t ask me I don’t know why asfklj~~

Immediately, before he was even fully aware of anything else, Lance could tell he was still being kissed, which was very nice, but very weird. Was he still in the other reality? Where he was Altean and Keith was Galra?

Wait, no. No, whoever was kissing him didn’t have fur, just smooth skin. Plus, this kiss wasn’t the kind of desperation where time was running out and they had to kiss in secret. This kiss was desperate, sure, but it was _horny_ desperate. It was where they had all the time they needed, but they didn’t want to waste a second more. This type of kiss was more akin to someone trying to crawl into him though his mouth…

…But, like, in a good way.

“Fuck, Lance,” Keith moaned.

 _Keith_. What a surprise.

It really wasn’t, not at this point, but what _was_ a surprise was how he was pressing Lance against a door and how his leg was slipped in between Lance’s thighs. Keith was hard in his jeans.

Holy shit.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, pulling away, showing Lance just how red and raw his lips were. (How long had they been kissing?) “I…I don’t want to mess this up.”

 _Holy shit_.

“You won’t mess this up,” Lance assured quickly, without thinking.

Even though it had only been a few seconds, from the way Keith was kissing him, there was absolutely no way he could mess anything up.

Keith however, didn’t look too sure.

“First times can be really weird,” he whispered. “I don’t want us to be weird or anything after.”

 _First times_?

Like…first-times, first-times?

Like _sexy_ first times?

“W-We won’t b-be weird,” Lance stammered out.

Was Keith about to take this reality Lance’s _virginity_?!

Should he be putting a stop to this? He should probably be putting a stop to this…

“I want to do this right, Lance,” Keith all but whined, rolling his hips, and, dear god, that felt absolutely fan- _fucking_ -tastic.

…Maybe he _shouldn’t_ put a stop to this. For propriety’s sake, of course. Wouldn’t want Keith to think his Lance wasn’t actually here.

“I t-trust you,” he gasped out, clinging to the back of Keith’s shirt and moving his hips in sync with Keith’s.

Oh my god, this was happening.

This. Was. Happening!

Letting out a soft growl, Keith leaned in, kissing him again. It was deep and hungry and _hot_ , but now that Lance knew where this was going to be going, he didn’t want to, he just couldn’t, wait anymore.

Allowing one moment to apologize to this reality’s Lance for taking control of his body at probably _the most_ inopportune time of his life, he slipped his hands under Keith’s shirt, feeling the soft muscles. This Keith wasn’t ripped and battle-scarred from being a Paladin and a Blade member, but he wasn’t pudgy either. When his fingers brushed over Keith’s nipples, he broke the kiss with a shuddering moan.

“God, I’ve wanted you to touch me all fucking year,” Keith groaned, his hips still rocking. Moving his arms up so Lance could fully take off his shirt, he continued, “I really thought the universe was punishing me for putting us as roommates.”

“I wouldn’t considering this a punishment,” Lance said, taking off his own shirt.

“Not _now_ ,” Keith mumbled, bringing his lips to the sensitive area just below Lance’s jaw. “But last semester, when you would parade around practically naked in that tiny, little speedo you wear for swimming…and I didn’t do anything about it because I thought you were _straight_.”

Lance rolled his hips. “Nope, not straight. Take off my pants, Keith, fuck.”

For the second time, Keith pulled back. “You’re really, really sure?”

With a huff, Lance pushed Keith backwards, angling it for the bed he only just now noticed existed in the room. Well, there were two beds—it looked like they were in a college dorm—and he just picked the one that looked the cleanest. Keith’s legs hit the edge of the bed and he tumbled down into it.

“I’m positive,” Lance said, and slowly started stripping his jeans off.

Keith looked like he wanted to devour him, but wasn’t sure if he was allergic or not.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” he asked; it sounded like he hadn’t had anything to drink in years.

“I watch porn,” Lance said, knowing it had to be true. “And I have a really good imagination.”

Keith swallowed and Lance watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“R-Right.” He nodded, wide eyed, staring at Lance up and down like a desperate man. “Of course, yeah.”

After a moment of nothing happening, Lance smirked. “Keith, I’m pretty sure now is the time for you to ravish me like I know you want to.”

And he did. Lance knew he did. This reality’s Keith wanted Lance and it felt so, so good to be wanted. Wanted by _Keith_.

Keith stood up and shucked his pants off with very little finesse. He stepped back into Lance’s space, pulling him into another kiss. Their naked bodies were flush against each other, and for a moment, Lance’s mind wished that this was his Keith, but he dismissed the thought quickly. Dwelling on that meant being reminded that he was actually dying and that was a real big mood killer.

“I wanna do this right,” Keith repeated quietly. “I know we’ve only been dating for a couple weeks, but I want this to be perfect.”

Taking one of Lance’s hands, he brought it down towards his ass and between his cheeks, where a…a…

 _Error 404: Lance’s Brain Functioning Not Found_.

“O-Oh,” Lance breathed out, eyes wide. “ _Shit_.”

There was a plug, a fucking _butt plug_ , snuggled in between those perfectly round, pale cheeks.

Keith was blushing, but his voice was firm, and he announced, “I’m going to ride you, Lance. I’m going to ride the ever-loving _fuck_ out of you. Get on the bed.”

“You sure were prepared, weren’t you?” he stammered out as he sat down on the soft mattress.

The soft mattress he was about to be fucked on. The soft mattress he was about to be fucked on for the very first time in this body.

It was a lot to take in.

“Well, you were the one who wanted this to be my birthday present, so I had time to prepare for it…” Keith made a face as he pulled out the plug out of his hole. “Lay down.”

He did, unable to stop himself from squeaking when Keith crawled on top of him, straddling him and showing off his pale, hard cock.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring at it. “You’re really hard.”

“I _really_ want this,” Keith said, leaning down to kiss him again. “I’ve wanted this ever since I laid eyes on you.”

“Despite my loud mouth?” he asked, then inwardly winced. Was this reality’s Lance as loud-mouthed and annoying as he was? Did he just accidentally out himself as being from a different reality?

Worse: Did he just ruin the mood?

Now was _not_ the time to let his insecurities get the best of him, dammit.

Keith just nipped at his neck, causing Lance to shiver.

“How many times do I have to say I like your loud mouth, you idiot?” Keith murmured, lips tingling against Lance’s neck. “No one else can keep up with my sarcasm like you.”

That was…pretty accurate in his reality as well.

“Besides,” he continued, smiling softly. “I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I didn’t.”

Lance’s heart stuttered and for a moment he allowed himself to wish this was his Keith talking to him, but he quickly squashed that thought. Again, reminding himself that he was actually dying, and stupidly single, in his own reality was a real mood-killer.

“Boyfriend,” he repeated, returning Keith’s soft smile with his own. “I like the sound of that.”

Keith smiles softly, whispering, “Me too,” before leaning down and pressing his lips against Lance’s once again. Then, he took one of Lance’s hands and brought it to his ass.

“Y-You’re going to need to finger me a bit. Are you up for it?”

“I’m very, very _up_ , if you couldn’t tell,” he teased, rolling his hips to remind Keith that he wasn’t the only one with a hard, leaking cock.

Keith rolled his eyes, but his bright red cheeks ruined any type of annoyance he was trying to portray.

“Good to know your brain hasn’t completely melted yet, if you’re still making terrible jokes.”

“Oh, ha ha ha.”

Sitting up for a better angle, Lance wrapped his arm behind Keith’s back, gripping at his shoulder, while his arms arm went lower, his fingers brushing against Keith’s hole. He shivered in his arms.

“Do you know what to do?” he asked.

“I _finger_ it’s all in the name.”

Keith huffed out a laugh, but it broke off quickly with a moan as Lance put in one finger. He was already loose enough for two from the plug, but Lance didn’t have any lube on his hands yet.

It seemed Keith realized this at the same time because he mumbled, “Under my pillow.”

 _Ah, so this is Keith’s bed_ , he thought.

Even though he really didn’t want to remove his arms just yet, Lance reached under the pillow feeling for the necessary items. He brought out lube and a pack of condom.

“You were _really_ prepared,” he murmured, cocking an eyebrow and grinning up at the Keith in his lap.

“Oh, shut up,” Keith responded, but the tone was light and his cheeks were as red as, well, his lion Red. It was a good look on him.

After coating his fingers with a giant dollop of lube, and warming it up by rubbing them together a few times, Lance went back to slowly scissoring Keith open. Keith went back to marking his neck with one love bite after another. By the time, he was able to put three fingers in, and Keith was a shivering mess, unable to give Lance any more hickies.

“Fuck,” he groaned when Lance brushed up against that spot, his hips jerking.

“Found it,” Lance muttered in Keith’s ear, nibbling on the skin behind it.

Keith pushed him down, panting. His eyes were wide and dark, his pupils so dilated that Lance couldn’t see any bit of purple.

“Yeah, now _I’m_ going to find it.”

He fumbled with the condom, but managed to expertly slip it over Lance’s dick nonetheless. Then, very slowly, ever-so-agonizingly-slowly, Keith sunk down on Lance’s cock.

“Shit,” Lance cursed, gripping Keith’s hips tightly. There was no doubt this Lance was a virgin from the way he almost came on the spot.

“Don’t come yet,” Keith nearly growled. “I didn’t say you could.”

And, yep, that order went straight to Lance’s dick. If he wasn’t at 100% hardness already, he most certainly was now. Maybe even 110%.

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a moment.

“G-Good,” Lance gasped out. “Really good. Really, really, really good.”

Keith smirked. “Just wait.”

That was the only warning he got before Keith let his hips roll.

Lance threw his head back and moaned. His fingers were digging so hard into Keith’s hips, he was sure there were going to be bruises in the morning.

“You think Iverson’s organic chemistry class fucks you?” Keith asked, his voice breathless. “Just wait until _I’m_ through with you, Lance.”

Okay, yep, there was absolutely no fucking way Lance was going to last more than a few minutes.

Keith started riding him like a pro, lifting himself up and down, rolling and circling his hips, letting out the most wanton moans and whines…

Scratch that.

There was no way Lance was going to last more than a few _seconds_.

“Oh my god,” he moaned, forcing his eyes to stay open and watch as Keith fucked himself on his dick. He moved like he was made to do this. “I—I’m going to cum, Keith, _fuck_ , if you keep doing that, I’m—”

“You better fucking not,” Keith ground out, the roll of his hips punctuating each word. “Fuck, Lance, you feel so _good_. So, fat in me. Oh, _god_.”

“K-Keith, I’m—”

He interrupted Lance with a whimper, his hips faltering as they finally manage to get Lance’s cock to brush against his prostate. He repeated the move again. And again. And again.

“ _Keith_ ,” Lance moaned, his only warning before his toes were curling from the waves of immense pleasure that ripped through him.

When he opened his eyes again, he watched in awe as Keith hunched over him, one hand on his cock and the other one on of his nipples as his thighs quivered and his stomach tightened. White strips of cum began decorating Lance’s chest.

For a moment, nothing else happened, but then Keith was shakily getting off of Lance and slipping off of bed, disappearing into an adjacent door. He returned seconds later with a washcloth.

Lance tried to help him clean themselves up, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even move his arms.

“First time’s usually super intense. When it’s good,” Keith explained, his soft smile taking a teasing hint, but not in any demeaning way. “So, you don’t need to help me clean. Don’t worry.”

Once he was done, he crawled back into the bed, curling up to Lance’s side.

“That was awesome,” he said, curling up onto his own side to face Keith, bringing up his trembling hand to Keith’s face. “You’re awesome.”

Before Keith could respond, a ringtone went off. Grumbling, Keith reached for his phone.

“It’s Pidge,” he said, sounding irritated. “If I don’t answer them now, they won’t stop calling.”

It took a moment for Lance to realize Keith was asking for his permission to answer the phone.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he whispered.

Keith smiled, his hand going to cup Lance’s face briefly.

“Hey, Pidge, what’s up?”

Lance could hear someone, Pidge, faintly but excitedly talking about…he couldn’t tell what.

“A midnight volleyball match?” Keith repeated, looking at Lance in question. “Don’t you have an eight AM tomorrow, Pidge?”

Another pause.

“Yeah, I know you can run on, like, four hours of sleep, I’ve seen you do it plenty of times.”

This time, Lance could hear a faint, _“Whatever, are you in or out?”_

Keith glanced at Lance, who, after a moment, shrugged.

“Yeah, I’m in, and yes, Lance is in too. We’ll see in you half an hour.” After he hung up, Keith scooted closer to him. “Sure you’re up for it?”

“Are _you_?” he countered, letting his hands gently grope at Keith’s ass.

He hissed slightly, squirming at the touch, but he didn’t move away. In fact, he moved closer to Lance, wrapping his own arms around him.

“I’ll be fine,” Keith assured, his lips dangerously close to Lance’s.

Suddenly, Lance remembered what Keith had said early.

“Oh, yeah, and happy birthday,” he whispered. “Did you like your present?”

Keith grinned. “I guess you weren’t half bad…”

“Hey, now—”

He moved in quickly, bringing their lips together again. Unfortunately, he pulled back within minutes.

“Are you seriously hard again?” he mumbled, glancing down between their bodies. Before Lance could answer, he was moving.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” was the last thing Keith said before his mouth was closing over Lance’s cock.

“Oh, my _fuck_!” Lance keened, his fist tightening in Keith’s hair.

Keith hummed— _hummed—_ around his cock. One hand was pressing his thigh down while the other was fumbling with his balls. Keith’s tongue lapped languidly around his cock like it was a fucking lollipop.

“Shit, shit, shit, you’re so good at this, holy fu- _uhnnnnn_!” Lance babbled only stopping when he came. It had only been a minute or two.

“We _really_ need to build up your stamina,” Keith said, voice husky.

Panting, still partially seeing white, Lance gritted out, “Good thing we’re roommates then, yeah?”

Keith chucked, crawling back up his body to plant another kiss on Lance’s parted lips.

“Guess so. Come on, roomie, we need to get ready to play some volleyball.”

“I…I think I might need…a minute…”

He laughed again, but got up off the bed, rummaging around the room. Once he was dressed (and wiped off with a wet wipe) in plain black running shorts and a plain red T-shirt, he helped Lance off the bed and into his own clothes—plain black running shorts and a plain _blue_ T-shirt.

 _Red and Blue_ , Lance mused to himself. _I guess these are our_ _colors or something._

They were the first ones at the volleyball court, but before Lance could suggest something to do to pass the time, like kissing, lots of kissing, a group of laughing figures walked up to them from the other side of the court.

“Oh, good, you’re on time,” Pidge said, grinning. They wore short, green running shorts and a white tank top. Their legs were covered in hair, but their underarms were hair-free. “Usual teams?”

“Obviously,” Hunk replied, reaching out and tugging Lance towards him. He was wearing a yellow long-sleeved shirt and black running shorts.

The only two people not wearing running shorts were Allura, who was wearing pink leggings and a blue tank top, and Shiro, who wore black joggers and a loose, white shirt.

It seemed to be him, Hunk, and Allura against Keith, Pidge, and Shiro. He liked those odds. And, as it turned out, this body seemed used to playing midnight volleyball because he was pretty good at it. Not as good as Allura, who had commented that she was on the university team, or Keith, who just had a knack for everything sports, but he was holding his own.

Until he swayed.

It was nearing two in the morning and they were on their fifth game. It was supposed to be their tie-breaker, but as Lance prepared himself for Shiro’s killer serve (he still had his right arm in this universe), he felt the world around him slow down and his consciousness being pulled into his being.

“Fuck, Lance!”

“Look out!”

“ _Lance_!”

He barely felt the pain from ball hitting his face, though he did feel the pressure, feel the blood dripping down his cheek. Soon, everyone’s faces swarmed into his vision just seconds before he was finally submerged. Back into the darkness.

“Wha—Wha’s goin on?” his voice slurred.

Then nothing.

In the next breath, he was waking up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon is that they all believe Lance has a concussion from the ball hitting him, which explains why he won’t be able to remember the last few hours of the night. Which also means, Keith gets to “take his virginity” all over again. The next night. They were both too tired from staying up late and taking Lance to the ER, who, by the way, had broken his nose ~~again~~. That seems to be a theme lol.  
> Also, I used to play _a lot_ of late-night volleyball in college. It was a lot of fun!
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Disney AU (Kim Possible) ( **NSFW** )  
> Hanahakai AU  
> Supernatural AU (not the tv show fyi)
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	11. Coffee in the Mornings (Kisses in the Night)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disney AU - Kim Possible AU
> 
> Or: Lance Does Not Understand This Universe It Is Very Weird And He Is Struggling To Follow Everyth—Oh Fuck That's Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol so this AU isn’t exactly as Kim Possible-like as I could’ve made it…I tried to give it that cartoon vibe, which idk how I did on (let me know!), but mostly, I just wanted to add more smut…so enjoy! ;D
> 
> (Also, btw, this features background Shallura, so be warned.)

“Lance! Lance, wake up!”

Blearily, he opened his eyes.

Then he screamed, rolled out of the way before he could be punched in the face, and scrambled up on his knees.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, pointing at the man before him. “Zarkon!”

Except, this Zarkon seemed way too…cartoonish. There was no other word for it. He was entirely purple, but not exactly furry. He wore a dark purple, baggy pantsuit that made him look like he was a 1980s gangster. He wore lab goggles atop his head too. It was weird.

“Oh, no, it seems I didn’t throw you hard enough,” Zarkon taunted, stepping closer. “Acxa. You know what to do.”

A blue woman with dark blue hair, wearing a blue and black bodysuit stepped forward, grinning devilishly.

“On it,” she said before quickly springing into action, her hands balling into fists with a weird…was that a _forcefield_ of some type?!

Lance narrowly dodged her attacked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait,” he stuttered. “Back up. Hold the phone. I have a question.”

Everyone paused.

Like, legit.

They _paused._

Zarkon, in all his purple glory, froze in the middle of his evil cackle. Acxa, who looked way more human than normal, froze in an attack pose. On the other side of the room, was Lotor, also frozen mid-flirt.

Yep, you heard that: mid. flirt.

Like Zarkon and Acxa, Lotor looked nothing like the being Lance remembered him to be. His hair was slicked back by an ungodly amount of product and he wore a tight white shirt and low-riding black jeans. He was leaning against the wall, looking up at Lance, paused in his flirting with, wait for it, you’ll never guess, yes you will, _Keith_.

Keith, who was chained against the wall and wearing a black, long-sleeved _crop top_ and baggy, cargo pants. He was frozen too, his mouth dropped in shock and his eyebrow cocked, as if to say, _What the hell is your plan, **this time** , Lance?_

“Have you gathered your bearings?” Acxa asked. “Can we fight now?”

“Um…” Lance blinked a few times. “…Sure?”

He definitely shouldn’t have said that because now Acxa was practically a blur of movement. It was only because of his training as a Paladin of Voltron that he was able to dodge her.

“Hey, how the hell are you doing that?” she gritted, crossing her arms. “Usually, I’ve kicked your butt at least three times by now.”

“Heh, practice?” Lance offered, taking a moment to smirk at her before _he_ moved.

Within ten minutes, Acxa was tied in rope, Zarkon was handcuffed to a pipe, and Lotor knocked himself unconscious by taking off with a high-pitched shriek and running right into a wall the moment Lance took a step towards him. Acxa was then _retied_ in rope when she somehow burned through the first set, and shoved in a freezer, where Lance broke the lock so she couldn’t get out.

He took a step towards Keith, but a thought struck him and, this time, he paused.

“Wait.”

He looked back at the freezer.

Yep, that was a freezer. In the middle of some…evil lair? Evil lair cave?

“Why the hell there a walk-in freezer in here?”

“I get hungry,” Zarkon complained, no longer trying to uncuff himself. “The freezer keeps my food fresh. All the villains have freezers in their lairs. I saw it in Villain Weekly.”

Lance went cross-eyed, staring at the magazine Zarkon had pulled out of seemingly nowhere. It featured some sort of bikini-clad woman in a clown mask, holding a baseball bat with the words VILLAIN WEEKLY written above her head.

“Lance, stop dawdling and get me down already!” Keith admonished, calling out from the other side of the room.

“R-Right!”

Glancing around, Lance spotted the keys on the table—which was sitting atop half-written blueprints and half-eaten food—and went over to Keith.

“This isn’t over,” Keith declared, the moment his wrists were free. “I’ll be back.”

Then, Keith took Lance’s hand and ran off. They appeared to be in some sort of…fort? It had a lovely scenic view of the ocean.

“Oh, wow,” he mumbled, staring at it. Then, “Oh, _OW_!”

Keith had stopped abruptly in front of him, but Lance, not having paid the slightest bit of attention, had no idea and had just run into him. It felt like running into a cement wall.

“Kei—”

“You were amazing in there,” Keith cut off, eyes shining. “Wow, I had no idea you’d been practicing!”

“Oh, yeah, I, uh—”

Keith cut him off again, this time with a kiss.

And another kiss.

Another one.

Soon, Lance found himself holding Keith’s legs tightly to his body as Keith’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders and his back pressed against a wall.

“Hmm, hah, oh god,” Lance moaned and he felt Keith start rutting against him.

That was when Keith pulled back.

“The cops’ll be here any minute,” he said. “We should get back to town before anyone notices we’re gone.”

“Wha—? But…”

Keith was already out of his arms and walking in the direction away from the ocean.

“Hurry up, Lance, we can fool around later!” he called out.

“B-But…”

Lance tried to catch up to what the fuck was happening.

Okay so, he was in another reality. Got that; check

He was fighting some bad guys, who’d taken Keith prisoner. Understand that; check.

The bad guys were…not very good at being bad guys. Did not understand that; no check.

Keith and him were a…team? couple? both? Something like that; partial check.

Whatever they were, Keith seemed to be the one to call the shots. Makes sense, team leader and all that; check.

Keith was walking away from him. Yep, he definitely was; che—

“Hey! Wait for me!”

Lance scurried forward, only able to catch up with Keith due to his long legs and Keith’s slow pace.

“How long do you think they’ll be in jail this time?” he asked casually.

“Who?” he panted, out of breath. “The three weirdos I saved you from?”

Keith hummed. “I think they’ll break out in two weeks. Three tops.”

“Huh.” Lance thought about it. “They really need to upgrade their jails.”

Keith turned to him, shocked.

…Wait, _that_ comment wasn’t going to be the thing that outed him as not-this-reality’s-Lance, was it??

Lance would punch himself if that was the line that fucked him over.

After staring at him for nearly a full twenty seconds in dead silence, Keith finally threw his back and _laughed_.

“Oh, man,” he cried. “That was a good one! Upgrade the jail—HA!”

“Ha, yeah, I sure am funny,” Lance deadpanned.

“Yeah.” Keith wiped a tear from his eyes. “Okay, come on, let’s go.”

He took out some sort of grappling hook gun, grabbed Lance by the waist and pulled him in close, whispered, quite sultry, “Hang on,” and then fired it.

Lance only shrieked a _little bit_ when he and Keith were suddenly flying into the air, the only thing stopping them from being crushed to death was Keith’s grip on the grappling hook.

“Hey, you can open you eyes now, you dork,” Keith said softly, gently cupping Lance’s cheek.

Carefully, he opened his eyes. They were indeed on solid ground at the top of the very high cliff that they’d just scaled.

What the _fuck_ was this reality?!

Keith kissed him again, pulling him flush against his body, giving Lance all he got, and, well, Lance decided he didn’t care one bit about trying to understand this reality. All he needed to know was that Keith was in it and in his arms and kissing him.

(He forced down the reoccurring wish that the Keith of his own reality felt this way about him. He pushed that down with all his might.)

“Come on, let’s go,” he whispered, gently pulling Lance towards to car that he definitely hadn’t realized was there before.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Keith declared, “You drive, I’ll change. Then I’ll drive, you change, okay?”

“Uh. Okay…”

Trying to drive on the right side of the road when Keith was stripping down to his underwear was fucking _hard_. Lance was fucking hard! He’d just come from a reality where Keith had taken Lance’s virginity by riding him into oblivion, so pardon Lance if he was, well, _fucking hard_.

“Doing okay?” Keith asked, looking sideways and smirking.

He was siting shirtless, having just oofed and grunted into putting his tight, black ripped skinny leans back on. In his hands was more black fabric and something that looked like a red, plaid button up.

“Fine,” Lance squeaked out, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

Keith hummed, but didn’t say anything else. He put on his black shir—nope, nope not a shirt, just another crop top. He put on his black crop top and slid the loose red, plaid button up on over his arms.

“Okay, pull over, you’re turn.”

If Lance thought driving with a raging hard on was hard, putting on his clothes was even harder. He hadn’t even realized he and Keith had been wearing the same thing—though his shirt was a regular long-sleeved one, not a crop top—but now that he was taking it off, he could see the similarities.

“Like a fucking uniform,” he muttered.

“Hm? What was that?”

Lance flashed Keith a grin. “N-Nothing.”

He pulled on his jeans (with great difficulty) and pulled on his T-shirt with just enough time before Keith pulled into a parking lot.

“Come on,” he said, quickly getting out of the car.

 _He’s got to be kidding_ , Lance thought.

He watched Keith wave at him from the building’s door.

_He’s…He’s **not** kidding…_

Awkwardly, Lance shuffled out of the car, grateful that he’d wilted to at least a half-chub during the very unsexy attempt to put his normal clothes on.

“Hey, guys!” someone greeted from the front of the…coffee shop? “Your usual?”

“Yeah,” Keith answered back, going to sit at a table in the far end of the shop.

Begrudgingly, Lance followed.

“This has all gotten so much easier since we’ve graduated high school,” Keith said, skootching closer to Lance the moment he sat down. “Don’t you think?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Lance agreed automatically.

“Though it is cutting into our sleep,” Keith added, sighing.

Just then, the barista came over with their order.

“Thanks,” Lance said, taking the scalding cup of…something brown. Probably coffee.

He took a small sip and, yep, it was definitely coffee. Sweeter than he was used to, but still good.

Keith jabbered on, talking about something Lance couldn’t quite follow. He was surprised at the amount of talking this Keith _was_ doing. It wasn’t like him. Despite all the realities he’s traveled so far, none of the Keith’s had been this…out of character. Everything about this whole reality felt out of character to be honest.

Suddenly, somehow, Lance found himself being dropped off at a big building on some university campus.

“I’ll pick you up when you’re done!” Keith called out, waving goodbye from the car.

Despite the weird vibes of this place, Lance couldn’t help but feel regret that he’d be swaying away from here soon without being able to kiss this Keith again. He also has no idea when he’d be swaying and where he’s supposed to be going, so this is going to be really boring, waiting around for—

“Lance!”

He turned, frowning. The figure coming toward him wore a pink mini skirt and a white, tight blouse. She had on a baby blue blazer and her white hair was pulled back into a bun and _brown_.

“A- _Allura_?”

“Hey,” she greeted, hugging him. “Come on, we can’t be late!”

Allura ended up dragging him to and from his uni classes. They talked a lot, but it wasn’t really about anything. He could barely remember each past topic the moment a new one got brought up too. Weird…

By the time his final class was over, Lance realized with a start that it was dark out. He had to have been in this reality longer than any other one by now, even the Harry Potter one, but it only seemed like an hour or so had passed.

“Keith! Shiro!” Allura called out, waving to the two figures out in the distance.

She started running up to them and Lance was quick to follow. He nearly tripped when Allura jumped into Shiro’s arms, kissing him.

“What the fuck,” he muttered.

Watching his gay, childhood hero kiss his technically-dead, ex-girlfriend was…very weird. It was definitively _very_ on par with the weirdness of this reality at least.

“Hey,” Keith murmured, stepping into Lance’s space and resting his head on his shoulder.

Keith’s arms wrapped around Lance’s waist comfortably, the only thing that wasn't weird about this reality.

“We’re going out for dinner. Care to join?” Shiro asked.

This Shiro had the white tuff of hair, but no cyborg arm and looked about their age, which was…probably twenties? Lance wasn’t sure.

“Nah, we have dinner plans already,” Keith answered. “But thanks, Shiro.”

“Of course.”

They do a weird handshake and then Shiro and Allura are off, holding onto each other and making goo-goo eyes at each other and…yeah, no, Lance needed to look away _stat_.

“Are you ready?” Keith asked, getting into the car.

“For what?”

Keith just smirked at him.

“For dinner.”

Lance had a feeling Keith’s definition of dinner and his definition of dinner were not the same.

…He definitely liked Keith’s definition of dinner better.

They’d rode in silence, but that was only because their place was a mere three minutes away from the campus. Then, once they’d gotten up to their apartment, Keith had shoved Lance against the door, kissing him heavily again.

And that was how Lance ended up here. Eating his _dinner_.

“Fffff _ooohhh_ , Lance, don’t stop,” Keith moaned, canting his hips and spreading his legs apart even more.

Lance had absolutely no plans on stopping.

His hands had Keith’s ass cheeks spread, fingers kneading the flesh, as he licked and sucked and tongue-fucked Keith’s hole like a starving man. He didn’t think it was supposed to feel as good as Keith was making it out to be, but dammit, he didn’t fucking care. Not when Keith was moaning his name like _that_.

“Mmmm, gah, yes, _there_! Right there, Lance!” he whined, hips started to jerk against Lance’s tongue. “ _Laaaaaaance_!!”

He pulled back, startled.

“D-Did you just come?”

Keith humed and twisted himself so he was lying on his back. His cock was softening and there was definitely cum coating his stomach.

Bringing his knees to his chest, Keith moaned, “Come on, Lance! _Please_ , I need you inside me, like, _hours_ ago!”

And Lance, who was on the brink of death somewhere in his own reality, who was so hopelessly in love with the man before him, even if it wasn’t his Keith, couldn’t refuse him.

Quickly, he shucked off his shirt and shoved down his jeans as far as they’d go without wasting the time and energy to actually take them off. He lined himself up with Keith’s fucked-out, spit-covered hole and pressed in.

“ _Nugh_! Yes, yes, yes,” Keith chanted, squirming.

When Lance bottomed out, he looked positively _blissful_.

“You good there, baby?” Lance asked.

Keith sighed.

“Yeah. Love it when you call me that.”

“Baby?”

“Mhmm…”

“ _Baby_.”

“Heh, yes.”

Lance rocked into Keith, whispering into his ear, “My baby.”

“Aaahhhnn,” Keith moaned. “Yes, yes, _your baby_.”

Lance continued rocking, his pace increasing more and more, until—

“ _Naaaugn_! I’m gonna—! Lance, I’m gonna—!”

He was pounding into Keith now, pinning his wrists above his head with just one hand while the other was grasping onto Keith’s cock and jerking it off to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“ _Laaaaaaance_!” he screamed, arching his back and thrashing.

His thighs were clenching around Lance tightly, though not as tightly as his hole was. Lance just had to stay focused long enough to watch Keith’s entire orgasm. That’s what he wanted. To see it entirely. 

Keith’s eyes were squeezed shut yet a few tears managed to slide down the sides of his face anyway. His legs trembled from the intensity of it, but the best part was that when he settled back down, he looked Lance in the eye and begged, “Come in me, _please_.”

Lance did. With eyes rolled to the back of his head and a moan that wasn’t nearly as sexy as Keith’s, Lance’s body stiffened as he jerked one final time, pressing himself as deeply as possible into Keith. Then, the strength from his body fled and it was all he could do to not crush Keith by collapsing right into him.

Panting, he murmured, “Okay, I’m going to pull out now, ‘kay?”

Keith nodded, eyes lidded.

Slowly, Lance pulled himself out, watching in fascination as the come dribbled out too.

He suddenly realized he didn’t use a condom.

Or actual _lube_ , fucking hell, how was Keith even _alive_ right now?

“Hmm,” Keith shifted on the bed, stretching and rearranging his limbs until he was back on his back, legs spread wide in Lace’s face.

“Ready for dessert?” he mumbled.

“A-Are—? Are you _sure_?”

“Oh please, this time wasn’t nearly as intense as last time.”

Lance’s pride was wounded a little bit there, he won’t lie.

“Come on, Lance,” Keith wiggled his ass tiredly. “Please?”

Who was he to deny this Keith of anything? Especially something his normal Lance would to? Especially something _this_ Lance wanted to do?

“Well, okay, baby—”

Keith moaned at the name.

“—guess it’s time for my dessert.”

He sat himself up, cross-legged, then hooked his hands under Keith’s hips and pulled up.

“Huh—? What are you—?”

“Tell me how you like this,” Lance said, before bringing Keith ass closer to his face, letting his thighs rest on his shoulder, and digging in.

“ _O-Ohhh_ …! Oh, Lance! _Lance_! Nugh, hah, yes, yes, _more_!”

Well, Keith certainly seemed to like it. And Lance was surprised how much he didn’t hate eating his own cum.

He could feel Keith’s orgasm bubbling up again. Feel it in the way he rutting against his face and his hips jerked as if trying to get friction to his cock.

But what he didn’t feel, was Keith come again.

Because the universe had decided enough was enough and it was time to go.

Lance couldn’t even find himself to be surprised at the feeling of swaying again. He just continued eating Keith’s ass like a dying man (he was a dying man) and figured that if this was the last reality he ever visited, despite its weirdness, he’d be okay with that.

He sunk into the darkness, still hearing the faint slurping and sucking noises of the real reality’s Lance continuing to eat out Keith. He almost heard Keith come, he thought. Almost.

He woke up again just seconds after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So whatcha think? Very Kim Possible-like in the beginning, but…not so much in the end lmfao. Real talk, I wrote this before I got Disney+ (and even now I still haven't rewatched the Kim Possibles yet lol whoops) so I have no idea how well my characterizations are. I wasn't planning on adding smut since the cartoon obviously never had it, but as I was writing this, the smut just _happened_. Legit I didn’t mean for it to, but clearly the universe wanted Lance to get some again ;)
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming up:  
> Hanahakai AU  
> Supernatural AU (not the TV show, just fyi)  
> Garrison AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	12. We're Just Two Lost Souls Trying to Find Our Peace (Love Like Ours Ain't a Masterpiece)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanahaki AU
> 
> Or: Lance Gets Intimate With Some Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I’m **so** sorry this is late I got caught up in the bnha fandom and this just slipped my mind I’m so sorry! TT^TT~~
> 
> Okay! So, the way hanahaki works in this reality is that anyone can get it, but having it doesn’t mean that their love is unrequited, just that the individual _thinks_ it is. That’s the short answer, below is the much longer explanation:
> 
> Have you ever crushed so hard on someone despite the fact that you truly believed down to the very depths of your soul that they **didn’t** like you back? And yet, even believing they won’t ever like you back, you couldn’t stop liking them? That’s when the flower seeds are planted. Each time you feel that ache in your chest whenever you think about them, each time your stomach tightens in knots when you see them, another seed bursts into existence. 
> 
> As time goes on, the seeds start to grow into buds which then start to blossom. There are about 2-3 flowers in each lung, and it takes roughly a year for them all to fully form. This gives the individual time to stop loving the other person and have the flowers shrivel up. That’s a very rare occurrence though, and surgery must still be involved to remove the leftover remanence of the flowers, but the consequences are much less severe for this type of surgery. However, most people don’t do the surgery because it’s so expensive and they don’t want to take time away from their life for something that’s no longer **actively** affecting them and their life.
> 
> Up until the final flower blooms, which is when you start coughing up _bloody_ petals, hanahaki can be reversed naturally. (Before the last flower blooms, you just cough up petals, but no blood.) Once the blood-soaked petals start splattering out of your mouth with each forceful cough, the only cure is either surgery or an almost immediately declaration of love by the other person so genuine and heartfelt that you believe they’re truly in love with you back. 
> 
> However, if the person isn’t being genuine and they actually don’t reciprocate, then nothing will happen and the only cure is to get the surgery, which erases your entire memory. Sometimes, early childhood memories will return, or even late adolescence, depending on how old you are at the time of the surgery, but for the most part, everything is gone forever.
> 
> Also important to note is that hanahaki only affects romantic love, not platonic or familial. The youngest affected have been sixteen, but it’s very rare—most are in their early 20s to mid 30s. Hanahaki cannot be developed out of a celebrity crush due to  
> 1\. the vast majority of celebrity crushes being more akin obsession than infatuation and  
> 2\. without a physical presence of their crush, where your pheromones mix with theirs (because humans definitely have pheromones in this AU. you can read more about pheromones here)  
> This is why moving away helps many people with their unrequited loves.
> 
> Okay, after that textbook explanation, let’s get on with the show!

He woke up coughing.

Not that I’m-just-clearing-my-throat-don’t-mind-me cough or even the fuck-I’m-so-sick-I-hate-everything cough. This one was different. Lance couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It hurt more, for starters. It was like he was dislodging something from his throat…or like something was crawling _up_ his throat.

He coughed so hard for so long that by the time he was able to breathe again, face resting against the cool toilet seat, he had no idea how long he’d been in this reality.

“Hey, Lance?” a muffled voice flittered to his ears followed by soft knocking.

Blearily, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that he was in the bathroom, which, honestly, he should’ve already realized since he was hacking into someone’s porcelain throne for the past X-amount of time. It was a very nice-looking bathroom, something his mother would’ve decorated with light blues and whites and seashells.

The next thing he noticed were the petals floating in the water.

Soft purple and pure white petals.

Weird things to have in a toilet.

(But, granted, he’s seen and experienced weirder realities, so there is that.)

“Lance?” the voice called again, much closer. “Where are you? Are you ready?”

Wait a minute, that was _Keith_. How could Lance have not recognized that voice earlier, when it’s all he’d been hearing for the past, oh, _all_ , realities??

(Well, okay, all minus _one_. But basically all.)

Scrambling to his feet, he burst through the bathroom door, emerging into a long, open hallway. Right across from him was a white, wooden balcony, overlooking the first floor of a very fancy house. But to his left…

Keith twirled around wide eyed and stumbled backwards with a small scream.

“Wha—!? Lance??” he asked, voice high. “What the hell, man, don’t scare me like that!”

Lance drank in the sight of Keith. He was much more…more _Keith_ compared to the one in the other reality he’d just been in. This Keith wore a black shirt with some band’s logo on it, ripped black skinny jeans, bright red Converse, and had a scraggily mullet.

“S-Sorry,” he stuttered out, unable to keep himself from grinning.

_God, Keith is so beautiful…_

His chest twinged at the thought, aching for his own Keith. Wishing his own Keith liked him in the way all the other Keiths had.

“Don’t smile at that, you bully,” Keith admonished, though there wasn’t any real heat in his words. “Why the hell are you still in your PJs? It’s almost noon, get dressed!”

Lance glanced down at his attire: basketball shorts. That was it. His chest was pretty chiseled and his shoulders were broad, but he was definitely back in his teenage body. Though not fifteen, thank god. Maybe seventeen?

“I dunno,” he started cheekily. “I think I look pretty good just like this.”

He looked up just in time to see Keith roll his eyes and turn to walk away, but he could also see the slight blush color his cheeks too. Truthfully, it was only because he was deliberately looking for it that he even noticed it. The miniscule reddening of the cheeks could only mean one thing: this was yet another reality where Keith was crushing on him.

“Sure, whatever you say soccer star,” Keith teased back. “But I don’t want you to test that theory and get us _both_ kicked out of the mall.”

Lance followed after Keith, who was thankfully walking into Lance’s room, and filed that _soccer star_ comment in his mind to think about later. His room seemed much like his real one, though with the added soccer posters, trophies, and gear. His ceiling was still covered in glow-in-the-dark stars and he had trinkets from the ocean scattered around everywhere, plus a few photographs of different beaches, but now his walls were covered in different soccer players rather than Garrison pilots.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry,” Keith complained, flopping down on Lance’s bed. “And I need that piercing, like, _yesterday_.”

“Piercing?” Lance repeated, his voice discernably higher than it had been.

He quickly turned his back on Keith to pretend to search through his drawers so that his friend didn’t see his blush.

Fuck, Keith with a _piercing_ … That thought was entirely too hot for Lance to function properly. The pain in his chest returned again, this time more sharply, and he winced.

“Yeah, remember?” Keith asked. “I said the first thing I’m doing when I turn eighteen is getting my tongue pierced.”

A _tongue_ piercing?!

It took all of Lance’s effort not to outwardly moan at the thought. (The last _two_ realities had him and Keith fucking, so excuse him for not being able to get the image of Keith with a _tongue piercing_ kissing him senseless or sucking the soul out is his dick.) He managed to suppress it with a cough.

Only he couldn’t stop.

“Shit, Lance?!” Keith was off his bed in an instant and at his side. “Are you okay??”

He sounded so worried about him, and if that wasn’t the _cutest_ thing ever…

“F-Fine,” he gritted out between coughs. “I’m fine.”

He really didn’t sound fine, not when he continued hacking up half his lung for the next two minutes. Keith’s frown became tighter and tighter the longer it went on.

“Lance,” he whispered as soon as the coughing fit ending. “You’re not… _you know_ …are you?”

 _I’m not **what**? _Lance thought.

Aloud, he said, “Dude, I told you I’m fine. I think I’m just coming down with something.”

It took a few more minutes for Lance to convince Keith he really was fine. Still, the other boy insisted on going to get Lance a glass of water, which honestly was for the best, because now Lance could look at the palms of his hands without worry of outing himself as an imposter Lance.

More purple and white flower petals.

His mind flashed back to earlier, when he saw these same petals floating in the toilet.

Now if only he could figure out what it meant!

When the clambering of quick footsteps echoed into his room, Lance reacted without thinking, instinctively shoving the flower petals in one shirt and crumbling it into a ball. He grabbed another and by the time his head poked through, Keith was back in his room.

“Here,” he said anxiously, holding the water glass out. “I got some cough medicine from your cabinets too.”

Oh, shit, he knew where _everything_ was.

Lance’s heart clenched again, his stomach accompanying it with a somersault. This Keith had been in Lance’s house enough times to know where the medicine cabinet was.

God, Lance was just destined to fall in love with each and every Keith that existed, wasn’t he?

“Thanks,” he said, setting the now-empty glass on his dresser.

“Are you sure you’re—?”

“Yes, _mom_ , I’m fine,” he interrupted, rolling his eyes and snatching the first pair of jeans he laid eyes on.

Keith was silent as Lance sniff-tested them and then shrugged them on. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, pretty proud of his outfit choice considering it was going in blind. His jeans were a soft blue with aesthetically placed rips down the front. His shirt was white with red lettering—most likely the name of some brand he’d never heard of in his life. He didn’t look half bad. He looked really _good_ even.

As he set about fixing his hair without a brush, he didn’t notice Keith stalking towards him until a hand settled on his shoulder and startled him out of his trance.

“Shit,” he stuttered, taking a small step backwards. “Now who’s scaring who, huh?”

He was trying for light, even had his lips curled into a small smile, but Keith ignored it all. The way he stood made Lance wonder if he should bring up the petals, if maybe it wasn’t normal in this reality after all.

“You’d tell me, right?” he asked, voice just as tense as his body. “If it was _that_. You’re my best friend, Lance.”

“Uh, I…” Lance floundered, his face growing hotter and hotter the longer he stared at the _earnest_ expression on Keith’s face. “Of course, I’d tell you.”

He had no idea what he agreed to, but Keith seemed to accept his answer. He nodded curtly, just a single bounce of his head really, and then he was reaching up, fixing Lance’s hair himself.

Lance was suddenly drowning in the memory—in his own memory—of his Keith’s fingers carding though his hair. Petting him as he drowsily laid in Keith’s lap, leg bleeding out all over their cell floor. He remembered how it felt for his own fingers to be in Keith’s hair, braiding and gently detangling it.

This Keith stepped back way too soon. He twirled around, back facing Lance, but not quick enough to hide his rosy cheeks and bitten lip.

Lance was half a second away from reaching back out, grabbing Keith’s shirt, and yanking him close, to press their lips together and kiss like they both clearly, _clearly_ , wanted to. His hands were twitching, muscles flexing and getting ready to reach—

“Shoes.”

“I… What?” Lance blinked.

Keith turned around, looking much more composed than he’d been mere seconds ago.

“Your shoes are downstairs,” he explained. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Oh. Right.”

Lance followed Keith down the stairs, trying not to look around too obviously. The house was very nice, much nicer than the one he’d grown up in. He saw his siblings sitting around the dining room table (yeah, he had a full kitchen _and_ full dining room _and also_ a full, totally separate living room—was his family rich or something?) but other than friendly waves, they didn’t blink an eye as the two of them put on their shoes and going out the door.

Yeah, his family was definitely rich in this reality.

Those lucky fucks.

“Here.”

Instinctively, Lance caught the object Keith had flung at him.

Keys.

He pressed the unlock button and the bright blue convertible flashed its lights.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

It was getting really difficult not to act like this was totally normal for him.

“You forgot your wallet too,” Keith added, holding up a brown leather square and smirking. “Guess lunch is on you, huh?”

Lance laughed, unable to stop the bubble from rising in his chest. This was just all so surreal—not just the house and car, but the ease that was his and Keith’s relationship. The familiarity and…and love. Maybe not the romantic, “we’ve been married for, like, a bajillion years and have two kids” kind of love, but love nonetheless.

“Yeah, sure, fine, lunch on me,” he agreed.

Lance slid into the driver’s seat, caressed the steering wheel, and promptly froze.

Last time he’d been in a car, he’d nearly killed himself _and_ said two kids.

What if he swayed while he was driving?

Fuck, he didn’t even know where the mall was!

Frantically, he looked around for something he could only assume belonged to Keith.

“Wh-What did you take to get here?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as bad as his ears told him it was.

“Uh, my bike,” he replied, eyebrow raised as he pointed at a black bicycle leaning against the house.

_Shit._

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Lance automatically replied, forcing himself to take slower breathes, to count to ten and focus on the horizon before him. He sounded much surer of himself when he added, “Everything’s fine, Keith.”

Keith looked at him like he didn’t believe an utter word he just said.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he said, voice suddenly sharp, much more like the younger Keith of Lance’s own reality used to sound like. “Just take us to the mall, I’m starving over here.”

Great, now he pissed Keith off.

Lance’s chest constricted tightly. He didn’t want Keith mad at him—at him or the real reality’s Lance. Mutely, he turned the car on, put it in drive, and pressed the gas pedal. Maybe luck would be on his side and he’d miraculously make it to the mall?

The thought was utterly laughable, it truly was, but Lance still held onto a sliver of hope. Anything to make Keith not angry at him.

(He’s still not entirely certain what he did. Or what he’s hiding?)

Somehow, he managed to get out of the giant, way-too-complicated-and-spacious neighborhood in two minutes.

 _So far, so good_ , he thought, feeling mighty proud of himself.

After waiting a few seconds and seeing no cars coming their way from ether direction, he made a split-second decision and turned right.

“Where the hell are you going?”

_Aaannnddd there it is._

“Um. The mall?”

Keith stared at him.

Lance nervously eyed him, trying to keep his vision straight ahead.

“…I’m going the wrong way, aren’t I?” he finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re going the _long_ way,” Keith corrected, scowling.

“Heh. Uh… Oops?”

That got the vein in Keith’s temple to flare.

“ _Oops_?” he repeated. “ _OOPS_?!”

_Oh no._

“That’s seriously all you have to say?” he roared. “You’re hiding things from me and _clearly_ don’t trust me to tell the truth, but you want to be in a car with me for twenty fucking minutes longer just to what? Spite me or something?!”

Fuck, Lance really did it now.

What he did was a very good question.

But he really, really, _really_ fucking did it.

“No, that’s not it at all!” he fired back, completely unsure if that was even true. “I’m not hiding things from you!”

“Fucking hell, Lance, I know when you’re lying! We’ve been friends for _eleven_ years!”

Lance’s brain short circuited at that.

So, they’d been friends since they were six? Did that mean they were friends when Keith was in foster care? Or had his father never died in this reality? Was Krolia still an alien _??_

A hand slapped down on the dashboard and he flinched into alertness again.

“Are you _seriously_ zoning out in the middle of this argument?!” Keith demanded.

“No!”

_Yes…_

Keith groaned, the sound a mixture of annoyed and disgusted. He knew that sound really well.

“God, I can’t believe you. Look, I know you don’t have to tell me _everything_ ,” he began, sounding very much like Lance _did_ have to tell him everything. “You can leave her name out of it, but, fuck, just tell the truth!”

“Her name—?”

Once again, Lance’s brain couldn’t compute the information.

Because _What_? Was Keith implying that they actually _were_ together? Was he implying that Lance was _cheating_??

He had to suppress a cough as Keith’s accusation became clear in his mind.

 _No, no, no_ his brain chanted to the beat of his pulse. _That’s not right, I would never. I wouldn’t cheat on Keith—on **anyone**!_

And truly _he_ would never cheat.

But this wasn’t his reality.

“I…” he trailed off, unsure what to say.

Should he reveal the truth?

Just as he decided that yeah, maybe he should, Keith sighed, shoulders sagging as the tension poured out of him within seconds.

“Look,” he said again, softer this time. “I…I know what that cough is, Lance. You haven’t been hiding it well these past few days.”

He’s been coughing more than just today?

“You and I both know what it means. How far along is it? Have you…have you scheduled the surgery?”

Scheduled the _what_?

“Keith, what the fuck—”

He couldn’t hold it back any longer. The tickle in his throat had grown tenfold, just by looking at Keith, that sad—no, _despondent_ —expression marring his features, making him look like he was about to cry. Keith was about to _cry_ because of _him_. Because he cheated or has a medical condition or—or _something_. Lance was still so very confused, but his chest rattled it felt like something was moving, _squeezing_ , him from the inside. His throat was so parched, he was almost surprised dust didn’t puff out his open mouth as he curled in on himself and coughed and coughed and _coughed_ and couldn’t fucking stop coughing!

“P-Pull over!” Keith’s frantic voice breached his hearing. “Lance, fuck, pull over!”

He did.

At least, he’s fairly certain he did.

His eyes were filled with tears and his throat was so raw and he knew there was no hiding the petals dropping out from between his parted lips now.

“Shit,” Keith cursed, his voice sounded so _broken_.

Arms wrap around him, and Lance distantly realized that Keith had gotten out of the passenger seat and moved to his side. It had to be awkward, squatting on the grass and cuddling a coughing, crying mess of a human, who somehow curled his long-ass limbs into a fetal position while still in the driver’s seat.

“I’ve got you,” Keith murmured, thought honestly it sounded like someone needed to get him too. “I’ve got you, Lance, I’m right here, I’m right h-here…”

It took so long for the coughing spell to finally died down. It felt like hours had passed when that couldn’t have possibly been the case. Lance was only partially surprised to find blood coating the petals in his hands.

“That’s not good,” Keith said, still holding Lance.

Still _crying_.

“So, maybe now’s not the right time to tell you that I’m actually from a different reality,” Lance choked out.

If there are petals in his hands, does that mean there are flowers in his lungs? Are thorns in his throat? Because that would explain why it feels like he’s swallowing blood.

Keith pulled back, frowning.

“Delusions aren’t part of hanahaki,” he mumbled, as if that was supposed to make sense.

When he put a hand to Lance’s forehead, Lance leaned into the touch.

“Look,” he started. “I’m not sure what that is or why there’s flowers in my lungs or who you think I’m cheating on you with—”

Keith frowned harder at that. Lance quickly continued before he could interrupt him though.

“—but I know that in ever reality I’ve been in, I’ve been in love you.”

Keith startled, jaw dropping.

“Or, you’ve been in love with me while I was still catching up on the ‘I like girls _and boys_ ’ bit.”

“Y-You— _What_?!”

“All this is to say,” Lance continued, talking over Keith before he could really start rambling—because even though it was a rare occurrence, when Keith rambled, he _rambled_ , like, it seriously rivaled Lance’s unmedicated-ADHD-rants. “All this is to say, I have loved you for so many years and I don’t think this Lance would be any diff—”

It’s becoming a pattern—Keith shutting Lance up with a kiss.

Lance doesn’t want this pattern to ever change.

“I love you too,” he gasped out on Lance’s lips. “Lance, I love you too, I love you so much…”

They both lost track of time after that—kissing and crying, kissing and confessing, kissing and kissing and _kissing_.

It’s only when their stomachs growled the sound painfully loud that they finally pulled apart. Keith’s lips were swollen, red, and glistening; they were still slightly puckered when they leaned away from each other and Lance had to force himself to look away before he moved forward and capture those lips again. His eyes moved to meet Keith’s. Keith’s eyes were red (just like lips) with tears still clinging to his lashes. His hair was an utter disaster from where Lance ran his hands through it and his clothes weren’t much better for the same exact reason.

Lance was sure he looked exactly the same.

“Y-You should drive us to the mall…” he stumbled out, the words heavy on his tongue, feeling like cotton. “For food.”

Keith opened his mouth, but the words didn’t seem to want to come out of his mouth. In the end he just nodded and helped Lance unfold from the driver’s seat. They drove the rest of the way in silence, after Keith did, what Lance was certain was, a very illegal U-turn. Yet, Keith’s hand tightly gripped Lance’s the entire time, not letting go once.

When they stumbled into the food court less than ten minutes later, Lance didn’t have the energy to look around and compare how vastly different and yet eerily similar this mall was to all other the malls he’s visited, space malls included. Keith lead him to a booth, letting him rest as he went in search of food. He brought back burgers and fries from a place Lance had never heard of, but it tasted delicious nonetheless. By the time Keith was done with his, Lance was barely halfway finished, but they were both leaning back, Lance’s head resting on Keith’s shoulder with Keith’s head resting atop his. One of Keith’s arms was behind Lance, resting hotly on his outer hip and keeping their sides pressed closely together.

“So, what’s Hannah-kay?” Lance asked, finally breaking their little bubble as he slowly brought one singular fry to his mouth. “Uh, I mean, Anna-hockey…shit, no, I…”

“Hana-ha-kee Keith corrected, carefully pronouncing the word.

Lance brough another fry to his mouth. “Yeah, that.”

There was a long pause where Lance was sure Keith was about to question his sanity, but instead Lance heard a quiet sigh, and then Keith was talking softly. He explained the flower seeds being planted in the lungs during a crush; how they’d either whither and die upon reciprocation or the attraction fading out. How the other option was for the seeds to start growing. If the seeds grew, the crush developing into something more, something _deeper_ , than mere infatuation, then flowers will start to bloom, usually within the year. Each lung could hold two or three fully blossomed flowers, and once the final flower bloomed, once the person started coughing up petals covered in blood, the only cure was surgery or a near immediate declaration of love that the afflicted truly and utterly believed with their whole being.

It was a lot to take in, and that was saying something considering Lance fought aliens using giant, metal sentient lions that combined into an even more giant warrior-figure, _plus_ his soul was traversing the multiverse as his body lay dying on some planet. It helped that Keith spoke slowly, taking time to explain each step thoroughly, yet concisely.

“Did you know?” he asked when Keith finally finished. “Did you know your Lance loved you back?”

Keith’s hand, the one on Lance’s hip, twitched at that. At **_your_** _Lance_.

Still, he answered with an honest, albeit quiet, “No.”

“Then how come you don’t—?”

“Flowers are growing,” Keith answered, and it was weird to hear that sort of assurance—like, oh no, there indeed _are_ flowers growing in my lungs, yep, it’s all just a normal occurrence of flower lung disease because I’m in love with you, no big deal! “I’ve been feeling them growing for a few months now, but I haven’t started coughing yet.”

Lance hummed.

“I guess,” Keith continued, even softer than before. “I guess you fell for me before I fell for you.”

He paused, then corrected himself, eyebrows furrowing with slight uncertainty: “Fell for him.”

Lance nuzzled Keith’s neck in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He was too tired to do much of anything else, but he was grateful with how well Keith was handling him casually talk about not being his reality’s Lance. Though, thinking about it, if this world had a disease where flowers grew in lungs, who knew what other weird occurrences there were; maybe Lance temporarily inhabiting another reality’s version of himself wasn’t as surprising to this reality’s occupants as Lance thought.

…Or maybe this Keith didn’t believe him at all and was just amusing him until Lance shouted, “Hah! Got ya!”

“So, how long until this…this _heaviness_ goes away?” he murmured.

Though maybe ‘heaviness’ wasn’t the right term. Honestly, it was a really weird dichotomy. Lance felt incredibly light, like a hundred-ton burden was lifted from his shoulders and the suffocating plastic was off his head. Part of him was sure he was floating right now. He hadn’t even realized he’d felt such a way until it was gone. However, he also felt so incredibly weighted. Like his body really was carrying a hundred tons while his head was encased in plastic wrap, and the strain of that burden was ailing him and would ail him for months, maybe even years, to come.

“I’m not sure,” Keith admitted.

Now that Lance was finished with his meal—half a burger and a handful of fries still left, for shame—Keith’s free hand gently took hold Lance’s. It was so comforting, so tender, Lance could feel his eyes watering again.

“You’ll figure it out,” he assured, completely confident. “You and your Lance. You can do anything with each other by your sides.”

Keith didn’t say anything to that, merely hummed.

Lance would’ve been content to stay as they were longer—all day even—but of course, the universe had other plans for him. He felt himself sway.

“I don’t think he’ll remember this,” he slurred, hoping to finish talking before he was completely gone. “I don’t usually stick around once the other Lances come back.”

“Other Lances?”

Lance chuckled (maybe, he can’t feel anything in the body anymore) at the mental image because he _knew_ Keith was raising one of his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a slight frown.

So cute!

“But I have no doubt,” his words sounding miles away to his ears. “No doubt he loves you too.”

“You…?”

But Lance was already gone.

“Hmm, Keith?” he heard himself say. “What’re…? W-Where’re…?”

And then nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Wait, something.

Lance opened his eyes, squinting in the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Keith of this reality didn’t really believe Lance, at least not at first, but the signs that something was _still_ off kilter with Lance despite the revelation that their loves weren't unrequited were way too obvious and numerous in number, so he started to doubt his doubt. 
> 
> However, it wasn’t until his Lance returned, confused and sluggish and very, very surprised when Keith gently grasped his chin and whispered, “I love you so much, Lance,” before kissing him that Keith was certain that who he’d been talking to before was a totally different Lance. Lance took more convincing on the whole ‘being possessed by another me’ thing, but eventually he just stopped arguing with Keith about it, especially since he never had a comeback for when Keith would ask him to explain how he became cured before Keith confessed and kissed him in the mall. 
> 
> Also! Keith’s parents are both still alive in this AU, and no, Krolia isn’t an alien, but they moved from North Korea to Lance’s neighborhood when Keith was six-almost-seven, and that’s when the two became friends. 
> 
> Also, also! Keith does end up getting his tongue piercing, which his Lance admits to being so very fucking hot since they’re boyfriends now >:3
> 
> \--
> 
> Lance’s flowers were white carnations, which symbolize innocence and pure love, according to this website, and lilacs, which symbolize first love, according to this other website. ~~Oh god, I hope these links work >.<;~~  
> Fun Fact! I had to google how to spell hanahaki lmfao. I got the pronunciation from this YouTube video, which gives a cool introduction and background of the fictional disease!
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming up:  
> Supernatural AU (not the TV show, just fyi)  
> Garrison AU  
> Role Reversal AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	13. Livin' in Ruins of a Palace Within my Dreams // And You Know We're on Each Other's Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supernatural AU
> 
> Or: Lance is Not A Cat But He Still Gets Head Scratches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, so I think this is more like a fantasy au, but fuck it, imma do what I want _and_ give ya’ll another fantasy au chapter later on. Because I’m just awesome like that. Besides, _Supernatural_ the TV show has witches on it so it can’t be that far off… 
> 
> Okay, and here’s where I apologize because I have not been keeping to the schedule I told you all about. I'm so sorry, guys. This pandemic has really got me spiraling lowkey. I’m trying to keep my head afloat, but it’s hard. No, I’m not going into a depression, but my motivation has dropped to the negatives and I’m super unfocused. I don’t think my ADHD appreciates having nothing to do :/ So, I’m really sorry about how hectic this has all been. I swear, I do have outlines for most of the upcoming chapters already written out, and this one was partially done for a while, but I’m struggling so bad right now. I’m seriously really, really sorry. For now, I guess updates will be sporadic until my brain stops hating me. Thank you all for sticking with me <3
> 
> Anyway, enough of this damned pity party, here’s the Supernatural AU!! :D

The sunlight was so bright and warm, Lance didn’t want to move ever again.

Wait, no. Shit, the sun just shifted an inch to the left. Now he _had_ to move, dammit!

Stretching, Lance lazily uncurled himself and got to his feet. There was only a few steps between him and the glorious, warm, blessed sun patch. Just a few steps…a few…steps…a few… _ah_ , perfection was once again obtained.

Lance plopped back down in the sunlight, making sure to circle the area a few times first. He didn’t think life could get any better, but then something started scratching his ear, and honestly? _Heaven_. This seriously had to be heaven because he’s never felt more content and pampered in his life!

“Heh, oh, so you like this, huh?”

Lance chirped and purred because uh, _yes_ , duh, of course he liked it, it felt so, so good and—

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, **_what_**?

He _purred_?! And _chirped_!?

Jumping to his feet, Lance stumbled backwards, unsurprised to see Keith’s face staring down at him, but _very_ surprised to see how _big_ he was.

“Awake now?” Keith asked him, looking quite amused.

“ _What the fuck_!?” he screamed.

“Yeah, I’m a bit confused too,” Keith admitted. “What’s your name?”

Lance quickly stood back up, but Keith was still so big and he was still so close to the ground, that Lance forgot whatever lie he was about to spew from his lips. He looked down and them promptly screamed again.

“I’m a fucking cat!” he yelped, turning about, as if he was chasing his tail. Yeah, that’s right, he had a fucking _tail_. “I’m a cat! I’m a fucking—! Wait, why can I _talk_?!”

Keith laughed, and Lance had never felt more bewildered before in his life.

“Sorry, sorry,” Keith apologized, still giggling. “It’s just that Lance—that’s who you’re, uh, _in_ right now—he hates when I call him a cat, he’s not a cat, so hearing you say that is just too funny.”

Lance stumbled over something, maybe his own paws, and sprawled across the ground very undignified. He awkwardly sat on his hunches.

“W-Wha…? I don’t understand what’s going on.” He blinked. “And I am a cat.”

“I don’t really know wither,” Keith quipped, grinning like this was the most amazing thing to ever happen to him. He laid down on his stomach and idly kicked his feet in the air. “And you’re not a cat. I’m Keith, who are you?”

“I’m…Lance,” he responded cautiously. After a pause, he added, “I’m from a different reality.”

“Oh!” Keith’s face brightened. “That’s really cool! Am I in your reality?”

Lance blinked, mouth feeling incredibly dry.

(Could a cat’s—uh, a not-cat’s—mouth be dry? He had no idea…)

“You’re taking this well,” he said slowly.

Keith shrugged. “Well, I’m a witch and my Lance is my familiar, so this isn’t the weirdest thing to happen to me.”

It took a few seconds for that to click.

“It…It’s _not_?!” he gaped.

Sure, he had quite a few weird things happen in his life too— _including_ going to another reality—but still, had anyone in his life just waltz up and admit that they were a completely different person, he would’ve wanted their head looked at for a major concussion, or maybe some magical-quintessenial juju shit going on, before believing them so readily.

“Nope!” Keith tiled his head. “My friend Allura is a mermaid princess, and I went to see her underwater kingdom for a few weeks. The ocean is filled with pretty freaking things; I have pictures, if you want to see. The first few are a bit blurry because it took me a while to feel like I wasn’t constantly drowning, but they get progressively clearer. When I came back to the surface, gravity was a real bitch to remember.”

Lance felt his jaw drop.

Not only was Allura _alive_ in this world, but she was a _mermaid_ too?? A mermaid _princess_ at that—with an _underwater kingdom_! That was entirely unfair. _He_ should’ve been the mermaid, dammit!

“Should you be telling me this?” he asked, glancing around to see if there was anyone else around them.

There wasn’t, just more trees and vibrant sunrays.

“Well, my Lance didn’t think you’d be anything evil,” Keith mused. “So, I think we’re fine.”

“Your Lance…?” he blinked a few times, letting Keith’s words sink in. “He _knew_ I was about to possess him?!”

Keith nodded. “Yeah, he was able to give me a…ten second warning? He said he didn’t sense anything malicious about you.”

Ten seconds…that was about how long he would sway before finally leaving each reality. Huh. Tentatively, told Keith that, which he seemed to find incredibly fascinating.

“But you can’t control it?” he prompted. “You can’t force yourself to sway or not to?”

“No,” Lance shook his head. “And I never really know how long I have in the reality I’m taken to.”

“Do you even know how you’re doing this reality hopping?”

Lance shook his head again, but explained his theory about his Allura and how maybe she was doing this to him. If she was, he didn’t know why, but he honestly had no idea who or how else could have power like this.

“Let’s talk more at my house,” Keith said, pushing himself up. He picked up a basket filled with mushrooms, fruits, and green leafy things. “I’m hungry; it’s already past lunch for me.”

It wasn’t a long walk to Keith’s place, but Lance allowed himself to be held in Keith’s arms anyway. It was surprisingly comfortable. By the time they arrived at Keith’s cute little witch cottage in the woods, Lance was only halfway through his tale (heh, _tail_ —oh, dang, he’s already used to this cat-not-cat body and making puns) about how he and his Keith and Allura were paladins of Voltron in his reality. It wasn’t until Keith finally sat down at his little witch table with a bowl of fresh soup that Lance finished, ending with what happened at the last reality he visited.

“That’s some intense shit you have going on,” Keith commented, looking thoughtfully at him.

“No kidding,” he murmured.

Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lance was grateful Keith didn’t ask him any questions about if he was sure he would die at the end of this (whatever _this_ was) because he really didn’t want to dwell on it anymore than he already had.

After a few moments, curiosity had Lance opening his mouth once again.

“So, what’s it like? Being a witch, I mean,” he asked, walking gracefully between the bottles of potions.

He could totally get used to the finesse of being a not-cat.

“It was…scary at first,” Keith answered quietly. “I could do things others couldn’t and see things others couldn’t and sometimes those things hurt me.”

Carefully, Keith pulled back a sleeve of his robe and showed Lance the long scraggily scars on his arm. It looked like claw marks, but not from any animal Lance could think of.

He jumped over to the table where Keith sat, unconsciously butting at his hand.

“That _does_ sound scary,” he agreed softly.

Damn, Keith knew _exactly_ where to scratch his head—it felt so fucking good.

“But then Lance found me,” Keith continued, sounding pleasantly amused. “He taught me how to control my powers and protect myself from the creatures that wanted to hurt me.”

“What’s the scariest thing you’ve faced?”

Keith made a face—it was cute; his lips were pouted and brows furrowed—as he thought.

“I guess…the demon wolf.”

“ _Demon wolf_?”

“Yeah. It’s bigger than a normal wolf and it devours souls along with flesh.”

Lance shuddered. “Well, that’s horrifying.”

“It definitely wasn’t pleasant,” Keith agreed, laughing a little.

“So, it’s not the vampires or the werewolves or what-have-you that are the scariest?”

Keith laughed again. “I mean, sure, there are some really fucked up vampires or werewolves or _what-have-you_ , but no, they’re not the scariest things I’ve faced. My friend Shiro, you know him, you have one too, he was attacked by a werewolf, and he’s the cuddliest guy I know, in _and_ out of his wolf form.”

“Even more cuddly than Hunk?” Lance asked. “Because Hunk is the _best_ cuddler I know.”

“I’m not sure,” Keith admitted. “I haven’t met a ‘Hunk’ or ‘Pidge’ yet.”

Lance frowned—or he did as best as he could in a not-cat’s body. “That’s a shame, man. They’re pretty awesome. Maybe they’re vampires. Or zombies!”

Keith laughed again, the sound incredulous, but also quite musical.

(God, Lance was fucked.)

“ _Zombies_?” Keith repeated. “I don’t know what that is, but we definitely don’t have them. Is that what kind of creatures exist in _your_ world?”

“Oh, god, no!” Lance blurted, laughing and shaking his head. “No, zombies are totally fake—just some made up horror story, really. They’re basically dead humans come back to life, but, like, still dead.”

At Keith’s confusion, Lance quickly clarified, “I mean, they don’t have a heartbeat, but they can still walk around even as they, like, decay and lose their arms or jaws or intestines.”

“That’s disgusting,” Keith said, making a face.

Lance nodded. “Yep! And they eat brains!”

Keith made another face that had Lance laughing again.

“But they’re fake,” he finished. “I think the only ‘creatures’ we have in my reality are humans and aliens. I did meet some mermaid-like aliens once though, so who knows, maybe there’s a zombie-alien planet out there!”

“Glad it’s in your world and not in mine,” Keith breathed out, somewhat joking, but also sounding strangely serious at the admission. “We have enough mindless creatures here; I don’t want to add these ‘zombies’ to the list.”

“Mindless creatures?” Lance repeated, cocking his head. “You make it sound like they’re worse than demon wolves.”

Keith grimaced at that.

“Demon wolves _are_ mindless creatures,” he clarified.

Lance hummed—but in a not-cat’s body, it sounded more like a purr—and tilted his head in a silent prompt.

“See, all the other creatures—vampires, werewolves, mermaids—they can all be reasoned with,” Keith continued. “Even demons on their own can be reasoned with. Doesn’t work all too well, granted, but if you can offer them a better substitute for yourself, or whatever it is they’re after, then, most times, they’ll take that and leave you alone for a bit.”

“…But demon wolves won’t accept any substitutes?” Lance guessed.

“No, they won’t.” Keith took a deep breath, as if holding back a memory. “They’re much more…animalistic. If they want to eat your soul, then they want to eat your soul. No amount of reasoning or magical items, like healing potions, charms, or curse breakers, will change that hunger into something else.”

Lance felt a shiver go down his spine.

“Yikes,” he said, gently licking Keith’s hand.

“Yeah,” Keith murmured in agreement. “Yikes.”

Suddenly, Lance realized what the hell he was doing and he quickly stuck his tongue back in his mouth. He decided to change the subject to something, hopefully, much more pleasant.

“So how did you and Lance meet?”

A soft look crossed over Keith’s face, and Lance thought, _Hell yeah, mission accomplished_.

“I was about six when he found me.”

“Six?” Lance repeated, frowning. “Shit, that’s young.”

“Actually, it’s pretty old for witches,” Keith explained, giving Lance one final head scratch before picking up his bowl to put it in his sink. “We’re supposed to start learning our craft from birth.”

“ _Birth_?! That doesn’t seem reasonable.”

“Well, my Lance says that young witches learn through observation and listening, so by the time they’re six and can walk and talk, they should be able to help their parents make simple positions and spells.”

Keith puts the bowl and spoon on a drying rack and Lance jumps up on the counter to be more eye level with him.

“Oh. That make some sense, I suppose,” Lance conceded.

Smiling, Keith walked to his little witch living room, sitting down on the comfortable couch. Lance followed, only tripping over his paws once.

“He’s been in my family for generations,” Keith said. “So, he’s a really good teacher.”

“Wait,” Lance frowned as best as a not-cat could. “I thought you said that he _found_ you?”

“He did,” Keith agreed, nodding. “He found me afterward.”

Lance was almost afraid to ask, not wanting to bring up bad memories, but quietly, he voiced, “After what?”

“After…” Keith licked his lips for a moment’s hesitation. “When I was a little over a year old, my mother and father were killed. I’m still not sure what it was exactly, but the creature seriously injured Lance and had to go to his familiar dimension to heal. By the time he was able to return, over four years had passed. He spent a few months searching for me before we were reunited.”

Lance headbutted Keith’s hand again, unsure what other way he could offer comfort. It broke his heart, that so many Keiths across all the realities had something happen during his childhood. No one deserved to be forcefully abandoned like that.

“So, when he found you,” Lance began, hoping to lighten the conversation, “You thought a cat was talking to you, didn’t you?”

Keith’s face broke into a grin, as he laughed at the memory.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I thought for sure I was losing my mind, and I was only six at the time. He’s still pretty indigent about not being a cat. It’s cute.”

“Do familiars have any special powers?” Lance asked, not realizing he was kneading his paws on Keith’s leg.

Gently, Keith picked him up and settled him in his lap.

“Familiars can do magic,” he replied, petting Lance. “They don’t need to worry about spells or potions either, but their magic is tied to their aura—think of it like their soul or life force. Familiars’ magic is tied to their aura plus the aura of the witch they’re connected to.”

Lance frowned again. “So…your Lance can do small stuff, but not big stuff?”

“No, not exactly, it’s more like…um, well…” He seemed lost in thought for a couple seconds before he continued, “Okay, so, the older the familiar, the more powerful their auras are. This means that some familiars, like Lance, can do really ‘big’ magic without needed to, uh, recharge, I’ll say. He recharges by going to his realm, or by me offering some of my aura. Since he’s been in my family for so long, he’s able to take it without hurting me or him. I can replenish my aura through ready-made potions.”

“So, not quite like Harry Potter,” Lance murmured.

“Like who?”

“Just a book character,” Lance clarified. “No one real.”

“Ah.”

There were a few moments of silence, where Lance thought for sure he would fall asleep. Being a not-cat was seriously very nice, and he wouldn’t mind staying in this form forever.

“You can shapeshift, you know,” Keith said softly. “Into a human.”

Lance woke up real fast.

“I can?!” he asked, quickly sitting up on his back paws; his front paws rested on Keith’s chest. “How?”

With a laugh, Keith gently placed Lance on the cushion beside him.

“I’m not exactly sure how Lance does it,” he began. “I think he just thinks about his human form and then _poof_ he’s there.”

Lance tried not to wiggle too much in excitement. He hadn’t done magic since he was in Harry Potter world, and there’s no way he’d mess up so bad he’d break his nose, right? (Though, even if he did, he’s sure Keith could mend it. Maybe.)

He closed his eyes and focused on his human fingers and toes, his human eyes and his human abs that he was very proud of, thank you very much. The thought that _You know, breaking your nose could be the very **least** of your concerns right now; what if you can only transform **half** of your body? or worse?? _never crossed his mind, and that was probably for the better.

Lance only knew something happened because he suddenly felt slightly nauseous and his body ached as if he’d run for miles without stretching or stopping for water. Opening his eyes, the room no longer seemed to be too big; now it was just right. Looking down at himself, he realized that one, he was thankfully clothed; two, he was awkwardly sitting with his legs tucked by his hips, making the M or W shape that usually hurt like fuck when he tried to do it in his reality; and three, this Lance had absolutely _no_ idea how to dress himself!

“A _Hawaiian_ shirt?!” he shrieked, taking the flaps of the unbuttoned fabric and tugging at it. At least this body had abs too. “And _jorts_!? What the hell kind of fashion is this??”

Keith busted out laughing.

“God, _right_?” he asked. “It’s atrocious!”

“How the hell does he style his hair?” Lance muttered, getting up and power-walking to the closest mirror.

It was only a little disorienting to suddenly be bipedal and super tall, but thankfully he didn’t fall flat on his face.

“Okay, the hair isn’t horrible,” he admitted, staring at himself and carding his fingers through the brown locks.

He looked pretty much the same as he did in his reality, but without the blue Altean marks and _with_ silted pupils. He wondered if it was a familiar thing or a cat-familiar thing.

“It’s very soft,” Keith added, standing behind him and running his own hand through Lance’s hair.

It took everything in Lance’s power not to lean into it and just let Keith scratch behind his ears.

“Heh, like that, do you?” Keith teased, because of fucking course he knew that Lance liked it. “My Lance likes it too.”

“Yeah, well, it feels really good,” Lance grumbled, avoiding looking back in the mirror; he did not need to see himself blushing like a damned virgin or something.

God, why was it that every freaking Keith did this to him?

Why couldn’t _his_ Keith want to do this to him?

His vision blurred.

But his eyes didn’t sting.

What was—?

Oh, shit.

“It’s happening,” he said, catching Keith’s eye in the mirror.

He frowned.

“Already?” he asked, moving his hand from Lance’s hair to his arm, squeezing it as if he could stop Lance from leaving.

Lance nodded, the movement feeling awkwardly heavy to him even though it looked normal in the mirror.

“I’m going to miss you, Lance,” Keith whispered, his voice sounding far away.

He expected that to be the last thing he’d ever hear from that reality. He was already almost fully submerged in the black void that was growing more and more familiar to him, but for the first time ever, he stopped.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t really feel, but somehow, he knew he was hovering just above the line of unconsciousness, as if his eyes were just above the waves.

 _Lance_ , a voice whispered. _So, this who possessed me._

If Lance could choke, he would’ve.

 _Maybe we’ll meet again,_ the voice mused. _I’d rather like to meet you one day. In person._

And then the hold was gone and Lance slipped under.

He barely had time to think on Lance’s words before he was waking up once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we're clear, I tried to allude to the fact that witch Keith and familiar Lance kinda have a relationship going on. Keith's the one who jumped Lance on his Of Age birthday, and Lance just could never say no to those purple eyes and teasing smirk. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Garrison AU  
> Role Reversal AU  
> Thunderpike AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	14. Too Many Devils on Your Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrison AU
> 
> Or: Lance Is Back At It Again At the Garrison Only This Time It's So Much Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon me, just sliding some of my personal Lance headcanons in this fic. No big deal. Carry on… ;)
> 
> Also yay! This chapter is on time!! :D <3
> 
> ~~Please don't expect the next chapter to be on time. >_<; I decided a couple days ago I hated my original one and need to change it, so I'm working on the new chapter for y'all. Sorry and love you!~~

He felt weird waking up this time. Lopsided. Off balanced.

As he blinked himself awake, Lance quickly realized what felt so off about this reality a second later when he stumbled in mid-step and the tray of food in his hands crashed loudly to the floor. His knees and chin hurt from violently kissing the ground, but at least nothing felt broken this time.

He _definitely_ preferred the last reality, when he woke up peacefully dozing in a sun patch. Whose bright idea was it for him to wake up while holding food and walking on uneven, rocky pavement?!

Allura? Universe? Whoever—can we not next time? Thanks…

“Damn, that was supposed to be my dinner, wasn’t it?”

That voice. He knew that voice.

Scrambling onto his knees, Lance turned to face the person next to him. He almost didn’t recognize them, which is ridiculous since they looked _exactly_ like how they did in his reality.

“K-Kroila??” he gasped, taking in the sight of her.

It took another second for him to realize what was wrong with the picture before him. It wasn’t just that she looked exactly like the Krolia from his reality—purple fur, bulging muscles, slight frown—which was so unlike everyone else he’s met from the other realities. They all had _something_ different about them, even if it was small, but the most off-putting thing was that she was in a jail cell.

Why the fuck was she in a jail cell?

And why the fuck was he bringing her food??

At the sound of her name, her frown turned into a snarl.

“How do you know that name?” she hissed out defensively, barring her teeth. “I haven’t told anyone who I am.”

“I…” Lance floundered, unsure what to say.

Perhaps it was a good thing he was tongue-tied because just then, Keith and James turned down the corridor he was in. They wore Garrison uniforms, and seemed to be a few years older than when he and his Keith were jettisoned out into space by a blue, sentient lion to fight Zarkon and his Galra followers.

Before Lance could decide what to say to them, or say anything to them, James started laughing.

“Cargo pilot can’t even walk correctly, huh?” he sneered, elbowing Keith, who’s face remained blank.

Lance slowly got to his feet, suddenly feeling more out of his depth than ever. For the first time since his reality traveling had begun, he felt like he was in danger. Like everything around him was a ticking timebomb and one wrong move would kill him and the Lance of this reality.

“You were chosen for this job because of your many, versatile skills,” Keith reminded Lance, his voice oddly detached. “If you can’t do something as simple as feed the prisoner, you will be replaced.”

 _Oh_ , he realized with a sinking heart. _We’re not friends in this reality, are we?_

But it was more than that. This wasn’t like when he was at the high school or when he hadn’t met his soulmate yet. This Keith was neither Lance’s friend nor his secret crush. This Keith was like how Lance’s Keith had been at first in his own reality: Lance hadn’t been anywhere near Keith’s radar when they were at the Garrison, and clearly neither was this Lance either.

Somehow, it hurt more now. At least he got the chance to go out into space, to befriend Keith, even if the road towards it was rather rocky. This reality’s Lance probably wouldn’t get that chance. They were several years past when Keith was kicked out, when Blue let down her walls to Lance, when five humans traveled throughout the galaxy to meet two out-of-their-time Alteans, who would help them defeat the great evil in the universe and save their planet. This reality’s Lance would never go down that rocky road of friendship with Keith, never find himself watching the sunset or braiding his hair or fighting him in the hopes that he might survive.

(“ _I’m not killing you — Nobody is going to die; Lance, I’m not letting you die! — I **can’t** kill you, Lance — You’re the future too. **My** future. — Lance, I lo—_”

He quickly squashed down those memories. They wouldn’t help him here, but more importantly, they felt dangerous here. Out of all the realities he should keep his mouth shut about who he really was, this one felt like the most vital…except maybe to the person to his right.)

“It won’t happen again,” he said thinly.

“See that it won’t,” James jeered back at him.

Lance gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to move, not to curl his hands into fists and swing. He remembered how inferior he felt to all the fighter pilots in his class, especially after he was moved up to be their peer. Now, he knew he hadn’t been inferior, hadn’t been dumber either; he’d just been a bit unlucky. He could’ve run circles around all the students had he been able to take the tests in Spanish, his mother tongue. He hadn’t even begun to learn English until the year before he’d been accepted into the Garrison, when his family had moved from Cuba to America! Not to mention, he’d had undiagnosed ADHD _and_ dyslexia, which he didn’t get any sort of help for until _after_ they’d won the space war.

Despite all that, he’d still managed to get into the Garrison program _plus_ he was at the top of his cargo pilot class. Sure, it hadn’t been what he wanted, but he was still _learning_ , dammit! His teachers hadn’t been any help though—instead of giving him the extra time he’d asked for, letting him test to see if he qualified for certain aid, they’d laughed in his face and told him to, “Just be like Kogane, cadet. Can’t you do _one_ thing right, cadet? Just shut your mouth and pay attention, cadet. _Don’t_ be like Kogane, cadet. _Fucking pay attention, cadet_!”

At least his mentor, Adam, had been kind to him, had _listened_ to him. Event tried to fight for him, but nothing came of it. (He was on scholarship, after all. Couldn’t afford to get that revoked—literally.) Unfortunately, after being transferred to the fighter pilot class, Lance had to get a new mentor, which he _hated_. He forever cherished the keychain Adam got him as a celebration gift: a little sparkly planet with a star and moon bobble.

When he found out that his Adam and Shiro’s Adam had been the same one, his heart had shattered into even more pieces. It wasn’t how he wanted to bond with Shiro, after everything that had happened with the clone, but thankfully, that connection hadn’t ruined their tentative relationship; in fact, it mended it, _strengthened it_. Even after he married, Shiro and Lance would go to Adam’s grave on his birthday and share little stories about him. They never went on Adam’s death day; Lance didn’t know what Shiro did, but he gave the man his space on that day. Everyone did.

He’d grown up so much since he was that cocky-yet-insecure seventeen-year-old boy. Still, every fiber in his being still shook with rage at how this version of him was being treated.

 _“It’s not fucking right!”_ he wanted to scream. _“You don’t know what I had to do to be here! What my parents had to sacrifice for not one, but **two** of their children to learn here!”_

Except, in this reality, even he didn’t know. Maybe his family was rich in this reality; they were in the one where he was coughing up flowers.

Suddenly, he was yanked to the side, his face pressed harshly against the bars as sharp Galra teeth entered his vision.

“How do you know my name?!” she demanded.

“Let him go,” Keith ordered, his voice echoing loudly throughout the stone corridor.

Lance could hear him and James drawing their weapons, shifting their weight until they were in a fighter stance.

Wincing, Lance whispered lowly, “Would you believe me if I say I’m from another reality?”

Krolia doesn’t have the chance to respond to him. While staring him down, her eyes so hauntingly similar to Keith’s, she doesn’t notice James moving toward her. Her scream nearly shattered Lance’s eardrums, but he was yanked away before any real damage could be done. Keith didn’t let go of his arm as he quickly dragged them away from the cell. Lance swallowed thickly as he realized that James had tazzed her; from the way she convulsed on the ground, it was clearly on one of the higher, if not the highest, setting.

“No dinner for you, fucking alien scum!” James shouted at her, cackling manically, as if the whole thing had been a fun game to him.

What a way to remember that this Keith and James aren’t _his_ Keith and James. Sure, James was a bit of an asshole in his reality, but not like _that_. His James wasn’t nearly as sadistic. And his Keith was far from detached.

As they turn a corner and begin climbing the stairs, Keith eyed Lance cautiously.

“Did you actually know her name?” he asked.

“No,” Lance tried to assure, but he knew it didn’t sound convincing when he he’d taken a breath too long to respond. Still, he tacked on, “I was just bringing her food and tripped. Didn’t say anything to her.”

“ _It_ ,” James corrected, suddenly right behind them. “It’s a fucking _it_.”

Keith frowned, but Lance wasn’t sure if it was at his statement or James’. When they get to the top of the stairs, the door at the top opened automatically. Lance tried not to gape at just how different everything looked up here. Down where Krolia was, Lance was almost convinced he’d been in some medieval dungeon, but here, it was clear this reality was just as advanced as his own. At least, before the inclusion of Altean and Galran tech.

“Ah, Kogane, Griffin,” a voice called out.

Lance tried to hold back his frown at not having his name called. Then again, the Iverson of his reality never really liked him either.

“Come with me, we need you in the briefing.”

“Sir,” they responded, saluting.

Iverson looked at Lance and sighed.

“You, uh…cadet. Go to your room. We don’t need you again until it’s time to feed the thing again.”

Lance opened his mouth to ask what ‘thing’ he was meant to feed before he realized that Iverson was talking about _Krolia_. His jaw snapped shut with an audible _CLICK_ before he could say something to really get this reality’s Lance in trouble.

“Yes, sir,” he gritted out a few seconds after he should’ve, but either Iverson didn’t notice or he just didn’t care to call him out on it.

Turning on his heel, he and James marched off, but Keith turned to look at him one last time.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he announced, voice low.

Before Lance could ask when he meant by that, Keith continued with, “I’m keeping my eye on you, _cadet_.”

Lance’s stomach sank to his toes as Keith shouldered past him to follow Iverson and James. He didn’t even look back, which only had Lance’s anxiety skyrocket even more. Showing your back to an enemy was either extremely foolish or a great show of strength. Lance might not actually be an enemy, but Keith wasn’t foolish.

 _Fuck_!

He’d barely been in this reality twenty minutes and he’d already fucked up this Lance’s reputation. If Keith began to doubt this Lance, then this Lance would be in some serious fucking trouble.

Following Iverson’s orders would probably be the best thing for him to do. No matter how badly he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on in this reality, he didn’t want to fuck up this Lance’s chances at…well, at anything. At everything!

There was only one problem.

He had no idea how to get out of this room, let alone where his personal room was. This place didn’t exist in his reality! (Or it did, but he never saw it, which could be equally as likely, honestly.)

The people around him bustled about, some more leisurely than others, but none of them were familiar faces. He didn’t see Shiro or Veronica or even Adam amongst the sea of people. None of them paid him any mind either. It was as if he were invisible.

…Which, you know what, he could work with. If they don’t care to notice him, then he could do practically whatever, right? And Keith was gone with Iverson, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him in whatever briefing room he’s in. So, obviously, Lance knew what he had to do.

Straightening his shoulders, he turned around to walk right back down the stairs. As he approached the doors, he let his mind relax. Automatically, his hand went to his side and lifted up a small white, blank card that was attached to his belt and he waved it in front of the little box to the right of the door. The box flashes a quick green and the door opened; he stepped through with no shouts of alarm rising behind him.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that he remembered this place was probably filled with video surveillance and Keith could very much be keeping an eye on him that way…

Too late now! He was already down the stairs, and there was no way he would just turn around now.

This time, as he passed by the other cells, he looked inside them.

They were all empty.

All except one.

“You’re back.”

Krolia’s voice was hoarse and she was on her knees, curled over herself, but Lance had no doubt that she’d still be able to kick half the Garrison’s ass before being taken down once again.

“Why are you in there?” he asked, getting right to the point.

She gave him a blank stare. “You don’t know?”

“If I did, why would I ask,” he pointed out, kneeling down to be on her level.

Blinking, she seemed to consider his words.

After a few seconds, she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, “Are you _really_ from another reality?”

He nodded.

“ _Prove it_.”

“You’re a Galra,” he whispered immediately, shifting closer to the cell. “And if you’re anything like the Krolia in my reality, then you’re also a member of the Blade of Marmora, an elite group of Galra warriors who are rebelling against the Galran Emperor, Zarkon.”

Krolia didn’t so much as flinch at Lance’s words, but she did raise her eyebrow, as if to say, _Continue on in your silly little story, human_.

“You came to Earth once before,” he went on, feeling more confident with each word. “Maybe twenty years ago? I’m not sure how old anyone is, but I know you crash landed in a state called Texas where you met a man. He nursed you back to health and you both fell in love. You had a son together, but you had to leave to continue fighting the war with Zarkon. Before you did, you made sure to hide the Blue Lion in a cave in the dessert. You also left your Marmora blade for your son to keep.”

“And why do you think that’s my story?” Krolia asked.

Her face was neutral, but Lance got the distinct feeling she was actually relieved.

He shrugged. “Maybe it’s not, but as I said, that’s the story from the Krolia of my reality.”

She nodded curtly.

“If you’re not from this reality,” she began, licking her lips. “Then where are you from?”

He took a deep, steadying breath.

“In my reality, I find the Blue lion, with the help of your son, and three other humans.”

Krolia’s eyes twitched at that— _with the help of your **son**_.

“Together, the five of us become the Paladins of Voltron,” he continued. “We fight and we win. Zarkon and Haggar are no more where I am from.”

At that, she finally softened her features and grinned.

“That so?” she mused, standing up. “Well, looks like my reality has some catching up to do, then.”

Lance stood, grinning too.

“So, you believe me? Is everything I said true for you as well?”

“Yes, but—” at this, her voice turned grave “—the Galra have discovered the Blue Lion’s whereabouts; Zarkon knows she’s here, and he’s sending his fleets to invade Earth and find her.”

“That’s not what happened in my reality,” Lance frowned. “The invasion didn’t happen until after me and the other Paladins became, well, Paladins.”

Krolia grimaced. “Clearly, we are not in your reality; we are in mine.”

Lance squared his shoulders and nodded his head. It was almost disturbingly easy to fall back into Paladin habits.

“I came here to try and warn the humans about the incoming Galra invasion,” she explained. “I had hoped my husband would be by my side, helping me convince his people of my words, but I…he…he died. Many years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lance murmured. “He died in my reality too.”

For a moment, Krolia looked as if she were about to cry, but within a second, she was standing straight again, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set.

“I tried to warn the humans, but they won’t listen to me. And without knowledge of where my son is, I can’t trust any of them. For all I know, Zarkon could have already infiltrated this planet. All I can trust is you now.”

A wave of terror shivers down Lance’s spine.

“I don’t know how long I have in this reality,” he admitted. “I travel to and from realities seemingly at a whim. I won’t take the time to explain it, we don’t have it, but I promise you I will get you out before I leave.”

Something akin to fear flashed in Krolia’s eyes, but she merely straightened her shoulders and repeated, “As I said, I trust you.”

Lance looked down at the lock. It seemed very mundane; easily pickable with the right tools. He wasn’t sure why they didn’t have more technologically advanced security measures, what with their upstairs being so modern and all. Unless they thought that Krolia could somehow hack into them?

 _Idiots_ , Lance thought, though he still sent a silent thanks to whichever paranoid moron decided this was the best means of containment.

Kneeling down, he fished his pockets for the bag he always kept in his uniform. In his reality, he loved sneaking out onto the Garrison roof, and Veronica had passed down her lock-picking tools to him once he got his acceptance to the program. Sure enough, he found them—the bag was even the same design too.

“If the Blue Lion is still on Earth,” he started, “I take it Voltron hasn’t been formed yet. Have the other Lions been found?”

“Green is piloted by an Olkari and Yellow by a Balmaran,” Krolia said. “Black is rumored to have been stolen by an Altean, the long-thought-to-be-dead Princess Allura, actually, but no one has seen her or Black in action yet.”

Lance whistled lowly, impressed. He hoped it _was_ Allura and that the Olkari and Balmaran by her side were Pidge and Hunk. Or whatever their alien names were.

“And,” Krolia added. “I know that a human that works with the two, maybe three, Paladins. He was a Champion in the slave fighting ring, but he escaped. He knows where the Red Lion is located, but claims that he is not her pilot, so he couldn’t take her.”

“Shiro,” Lance breathed out.

Krolia blinked, surprise coloring her face before she quickly schooled her features.

“You know him,” she stated. “Is he from your universe as well?”

At that moment, the lock was picked and Lance swung open the door.

“Yes!” he whisper-yelled. Then, amended, “Uh, to both. Yes, I know Shiro, and yes, I got you free.”

Krolia frowned at the device.

“That was surprisingly easy,” she muttered.

“I think they might believe you can control technology or something. Upstairs is _way_ more advanced.”

At that, Krolia laughed—it was a quiet sound, but Lance could hear so much of Keith in that laugh, his chest ached.

“Now let’s get you to the Blue Lion. Hopefully, this Lance is her Paladin too.”

“Not so fucking fast,” a voice hissed.

Keith stepped out of the shadows, his Garrison-issued blaster drawn.

“Oh, fuck,” Lance groaned, quickly moving to get in front of Krolia. “How long have you been standing there??”

“Long enough,” he bit back. “You’ve just committed _treason_ , you— _shit_!”

Krolia moved so quickly, Lance had no idea she was no longer behind him. One moment Keith had his blaster pointed right at Lance’s nose, and the next he was in a headlock, blaster smashed to bits on the ground and at Krolia’s mercy.

“He won’t let us go, Lance,” she grimaced, not even breaking a sweat through Keith’s struggles. She was pressing a dagger to his throat, one that had to have come from Keith himself since there was no way Krolia would’ve been able to hide one from the Garrison. “We’ll have to kill him.”

“K-Kill?!” Lance hissed. “Absolutely not! We can’t do that!”

“The Galra could be here any minute,” she reminded harshly. “And you _just_ said that you don’t know how long you have in my reality. Even after you leave, I will still be here. You know the Blade’s way: the mission comes above all else. I don’t intend to let my universe fall to Zarkon’s reign just because of one measly little—"

“In my reality, that’s your son!” he blurted.

They both stop struggling at the admission.

“ _Excuse me_?” Krolia hissed at the same time Keith gritted out, “ _Fucking what_?!”

“ _And_ ,” Lance continued quickly. “Keith is the Red Paladin. If you said Shiro isn’t Red’s Paladin, then maybe it’s Keith.”

Keith choked. “ _Shiro_?”

“Check the blade,” Lance instructed, eyes locking onto the silver weapon in Krolia’s hands. “See if it’s yours.”

“What the hell are you on abou—?”

Keith doesn’t finish; his eyes roll into the back of his head and once he was completely boneless, Krolia dropped him in a heap on the ground.

Lance quickly knelt down to handcuff him—thank god Keith carried his arsenal of weapons and defensive equipment on him. There were even more useful tools too hidden in the pouches and pockets of his uniform too.

“ _Quiznak_ ,” Krolia breathed out, staring wide-eyed at the unwrapped blade-turned-sword in her hand. “It’s _him_.”

“Thank god,” Lance murmured. Standing back up, adjusting the unconscious Keith on his shoulder, he said louder, “We need to leave now. I think I know the way.”

Krolia snapped her jaw shut and nodded, following Lance readily.

It was a little awkward; Lance had Keith swung over him in a fireman’s carry, and this reality Lance’s body was clearly not used to the manual labor, but mind over matter, right? Even after his Paladin days were over, Lance still kept up the training. Mostly. Farming was a hell of a workout in and of itself, but Pidge had given him a training bot to practice fighting with, not that he told anyone he actually used it. He was able to maintain a solid level 7 on hand-to-hand and a level 11 on shooting.

“You are positive you trust this device?” Krolia asked quietly after they had to duck in a shadowed alcove to keep from being spotted.

“The Garrison puts trackers on all their vehicles,” Lance explained once they were on the move again. “I remember the fit Iverson had when he realized Keith—my Keith—had taken one of the hoverbikes and deactivated the tracker. This little doohickey will take us right to Keith’s most prized possession.”

Krolia still seemed unsure, but a few minutes later, they were sneaking into the hanger with all the non-flying vehicles. As soon as they found Keith’s, Lance quickly discarded anything that could be hiding a tracker, like his keypad or Keith’s tablet. Then, he messily deactivated the hoverbike’s tracker as Krolia continued standing watching. Everything seemed to be going smoothly.

Too smoothly…

Of course, right as they settled on the seat, Lance at the helm with Krolia sandwiching Keith between them, the alarm blared.

“Shit!” Lance muttered, quickly turning the bike on. “Hold on tight!”

He barely had a moment to feel the heat of Keith’s body pressed tightly to his back, feel Krolia’s large hands gripping his waist, before the hoverbike’s engine exploded in the empty room, causing the reverberations to sound extra noisy.

Thankfully, there were automatic doors to the hanger and Lance didn’t have to try and figure out how to open them. Also, thankfully, the layout of this place was practically identical to the one in his reality.

“You’re going to have to slash that box up there!” he shouted back to Krolia, pointing at the keypad a few hundred meters in front of them.

Krolia didn’t respond to him, but she did as told once they reached the device. The Marmora blade slicing the metal as if it were melted butter. As the final gates opened, the guards shouting and jumping out the hoverbike’s way, Lance blasted through, entering the dark dessert terrain.

Sparing a second, Lance glanced up at the sky, half-surprised to see a totally new pattern of stars in the sky. It’s not that he wasn’t used to it, being out in space for a year, but he knew Earth’s constellations, he studied them religiously, so not recognizing a single star felt a bit bizarre.

Though, to be fair, this entire reality-hopping experience was bizarre.

“I think they’re chasing us!” Krolia shouted in his ear.

“Don’t worry, I can lose them!”

The stars might not be familiar to him, but the terrain was. They sped around for about an hour, only seeing the distant lights of their pursuers for a few minutes in the beginning. Lance didn’t want to risk wasting anymore time, so he headed towards the cave. Keith had woken up sometime before then, but other than a garbled, “ _What’s gon’ on_?” he hadn’t been able to say anything else since Krolia stuffed some sort of fabric in his mouth.

“You really did know,” Krolia murmured, getting off the hoverbike.

“Did you not believe me?” Lance asked, mostly teasing, but also just a tinge miffed.

Keith grunted from where he was slung over Krolia’s shoulder. It was, if Lance were being honest, a rather lovely view of his ass, but he’d rather march back to the Garrison than say that aloud in front of Krolia.

“No, you convinced me you were a different person right from the start,” she said, walking into the cave. “You’d been bringing me meals for almost a phoeb; there was no way you’d suddenly stopped being so skittish around me in less than a quintant.”

Following Krolia inside, Lance shrugged.

“I mean, I don’t blame this reality’s Lance. You’re impressive, Krolia. A bit scary.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows at that.

“Well, you also seemed much more, ah,” Krolia mumbled a Galran word as she searched for the English one. “ _Assertive_ , I believe is how you say it. Usually, you’d let that loud human and my little pup—” she patted Keith’s ass, to his dismay and Lance’s delight “—walk all over you.”

Lance hummed at that. “Yeah, I didn’t have the greatest confidence when I was at the Garrison. Super big inferiority complex. I don’t know how this Lance is, but I only started learning English the year before I was accepted into the Garrison academy, and I have terrible dyslexia and ADHD; honestly, I think I’m only fairing without my meds because I’m almost dead.”

Krolia spun around at that, but not before Lance caught Keith’s expression morphing into what could only be described as confused horror.

“You’re what?!”

Lance waved her off. “Like I said before, we don’t have time to get into the details of how I’m reality hopping. Just know I did it to save that mullet’s ass.”

“Mullet?” Krolia cocked her head, frowning. “Are you referring to my son?”

“To Keith? Yes, indeed.” Lance strode forward in hopes of getting them moving again. “I was already injured, and I knew if we tried to escape, we’d both end up dead. So, I did what I had to.”

He couldn’t see Keith’s face now that he was in front of Krolia, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to or not.

“By the way, when I do leave, I’m pretty sure this Lance won’t have any memory of the last few hours,” he warned.

“That’s unhelpful,” Krolia muttered, pressing an insignia on the wall.

Stairs opened up.

“Oh, wow this was much better than what happened to us in my reality,” Lance exclaimed. “We had the ground crumble beneath us and we fell in a heap!”

“Sounds painful,” Krolia deadpanned, and Lance could help the bubble of laughter that burst from him.

“You sound so much like Keith,” he said. “My Keith, at least. Maybe this one too, but between you and me, he’s a little more of a pain in the ass here.”

He laughed again when he heard Keith’s muffled grunt of indignation.

“He’s the one who found the cave, in my reality,” Lance continued. It felt important to share as much as he could before he left this reality; hopefully, Keith and Krolia would be able to convince the true reality’s Lance not to freak out too much when he awoke…assuming this Keith didn’t just cuff Krolia and send her back to the cell. “He got kicked out about a year before. Punched Iverson in the face because the jerk said Shiro’s disappearance was pilot error.”

“It wasn’t pilot error, it was Zarkon,” Krolia said darkly.

Lance nodded. “Yeah, same in my reality. Not that any of us knew that, of course, but Keith wouldn’t accept ‘pilot error’ as a justified explanation and he, well, to be honest, he kinda went off the deep end, but he was right in the end, so yeah.”

They turned the corner.

“Oh,” Lance breathed out. “ _Blue_.”

Krolia removed Keith from her shoulder and set him on the ground. He was too wide-eyed, staring up at the giant mechanical lion, to even think of trying to escape.

“Hey, girl,” Lance whispered, putting his hand up on the forcefield. “It’s been a while.”

‘ _Paladin_ ,’ she responded, her voice encircling him like a warm, yet fleeting embrace.

It had been so long since he felt her or Red. The presence was so familiar in his mind, and yet, also not.

‘ _But not **my** Paladin_,’ she continued. ‘ _You are different._ ’

“I am,” he agreed.

“What did she say?” Krolia asked, stepping forward.

“She knows I’m not this reality’s Lance,” he whispered. “She won’t let down her guard until I’m gone.”

Krolia let out a noise of frustration.

“We don’t have time for this!” she hissed at Blue. “We must get back to Green and Yellow; we _must_ protect Earth and the rest of the universe from—”

“It’s okay,” Lance interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. He could feel Blue’s irritation flaring at Krolia’s words. “Krolia, I’m sure I don’t have much longer here. Blue’s fast, not as fast as Red, but she’ll be able to get you three to the others.”

Krolia ground her teeth for a moment, scowling, but ultimately said, “Fine. I trust you.”

Lance turned back to Blue.

“Blue, baby girl,” he cooed, chest swelling in pride as he felt her preen at the pet name. Just like his Blue. “I know I’m not your Paladin, but can you do me a favor?”

‘ _I know what you will ask_ ,’ she said, because of course she already knew. ‘ _And though it is unorthodox, yes, I will do it._ ’

“That’s my girl,” he praised, grinning.

“What?” Krolia asked. “What did she tell you?”

Before he could respond, blinding, bright light encompassed his vision as Blue duplicated his memories. Then, as soon as his vision cleared, he swayed.

Because of-fucking-course he swayed. Perfect timing as usual.

“Shit, it’s starting,” he slurred, stumbling to the ground. “I’m about to leave.”

Krolia was by his side, holding his arm to keep him from collapsing. He knew Blue would have to use some of his quintessence to copy the memory of everything that happened to him to give to the real Lance, but he didn’t realize how exhausted it would leave him. As he glanced up to look at Krolia, he caught Keith’s eye, who was raised to his knees, looking, dare he say, concerned.

“Don’t worry,” he gritted out. “Blue’ll make sure this Lance knows what’s going on. It’ll be alright.”

Krolia frowned, but before she could ask any further questions, Lance fully submerged back into the void.

The last thing he heard was his own voice croaking out, “Holy cheese balls, I was possessed by _myself_.”

If he could, he would’ve laughed.

As it were, he couldn’t do much of anything in this void. In this nothingness that he seemed to always fall back into it. All he could do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And then wake up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made it so Blue could copy + paste memories and yes, I also made it so that she did it as soon as that reality’s Lance went back into his body. So, as soon as he was conscious again, he was bombarded with everything that happened with my Lance and it only took half a millisecond because Altean alchemy magic!
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Role Reversal AU  
> Thunderpike AU  
> Movie AU ( **Magic Mike – NSFW** )
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	15. Everything was Blue // Loving Him was Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Role Reversal AU
> 
> Or: Lance is Keith is Lance and Hunk is Shiro is Hunk and Pidge is Allura is Pidge and Matt is Coran is Missing
> 
> (lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM!!!
> 
> So sorry for the lateness, guys, but when I scraped my first idea for this chapter, I thought my second idea (making this chapter like the Space Mall episode) would make more sense, but I could not for the life of me get myself to rewatch that episode, which meant I couldn’t force myself to write this either…
> 
> BUT
> 
> …yesterday was Lance’s bday!! Happy {belated} Birthday, Lancey Lance!! My favorite blu boi!!
> 
> And Drink Write Draw Klance had this awesome theme for his bday (Birthday Beach Tea Party) so I took it and ran! 
> 
> This isn’t my best, I already know, but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless 💜 💜

“Lance are you paying attention?”

Lance blinked. He couldn’t feel the desert’s heat or the sweat dripping down his back. He was inside, where it was cool, but not cold.

“Lance, focus! This is important.”

His eyes focused on the voice and—

“Pidge?!” he gasped.

Pidge frowned. “Excuse me? What Earth greeting is _that_?”

“Uh,” he oh-so-eloquently responded, unable to pry his eyes away from the _green V-shapes_ under Pidge’s eyes and the _long, pointy_ ears she sported.

(Also, she was wearing a princess dress and her hair was cascading down her back all the to her _butt_. And it was curly! What the fuck?!)

He was so focused on how not-Pidge Pidge looked that he almost didn’t recognize Matt standing behind her. How could he when the dude was wearing something that could only be described as Coran-esque?

…Oh, shit, he had pointy ears too! Instead of green, his Vs were orange, and his hair was tied back in a short fishtail braid. It honestly looked pretty good on him.

“Lance, are you alright?” another voice piped up.

When he turned to face it, he couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. It was Hunk, but also _not_ Hunk. This was a Shiro-Hunk because he had a patch of white hair where Shiro’s used to be, a Galran arm, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Not to mention, he was wearing _black_ armor.

Sweet, baby quiznack.

Lance hesitantly dared to look around him. Keith, Shiro, and Allura were standing around him. They looked at him in various combinations of confused and worried.

Keith was in _blue_ armor, but the most disturbing thing? His hair was _short_. Not mullet-short, but short-short. Looking at Shiro was just as weird with his yellow armor, pure black hair, and young face.

And then there was Allura. Allura with a beautiful, puffy afro, large glasses, and _human_ eyes and ears. She wore green armor.

Looking down at himself, Lance saw the bright red accents on his own armor. Tentatively, he brought his hand up to his hair and— _fucking hell_ —yep, that was definitely a _mullet_ attached to his scalp.

“Seriously,” not-Pidge hmphed. “I always expect _Keith_ to zone out—”

“Wha—? Hey!”

“—during mission debriefings, but you, Lance? Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

Mission debriefings.

Okay. Okay, he’s getting the picture now. (Sort of.) He’s on the Castle of Lions (maybe) with team Voltron (kinda) and they’re all reporting on some mission they just completed.

Not the worst thing to happen, he supposed.

“Sorry,” he called out, trying to keep his voice neutral. “Continue, I’m fine.”

“Wow, when did you become such a terrible liar?” Keith asked, frowning.

Everyone was looking at him again.

Shit.

“Uh…” He frantically thought of some excuse that would make even the tiniest sliver of sense. “…Stress?”

“Stress,” Allura repeated slowly, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head.

Keith had flat out scoffed at the idea.

“Says the guy who’s every waking moment is spent in the _training room_.” He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, do you even shower?”

“I shower!” Lance retorted immediately, heckles raised.

Then he winced because _what the fuck_? Keith was acting like _him_ and he was acting like _Keith_!

Oh.

Oh, what a minute.

He looked around again. Yellow on Shiro and black on Hunk; green on Allura and an elegant dress on Pidge. He wasn’t just _acting_ like Keith here—he _was_ Keith. They were all switched!

“You all _have_ been working extra hard lately…” Matt mused aloud, rubbing his chin.

“Because we’re in a _war_ —” Pidge started to grit out, but Matt interrupted her.

“Let’s have a nulkod kansyv!”

“…A what?” the paladins asked.

Pidge (or should Lance call her Katie here? is that even her name? guess he’ll stick to Pidge) groaned, facepalming.

“No, no, it’s a great idea!” Matt insisted. Turning to them, he explained, “A nulkod kansyv is a party! It’s specifically set about to destress the body, mind, and spirit! You all have been working so hard to save the universe, and the planet we just liberated would be the perfect place for a nulkod kansyv!”

A beat of silence.

Then:

“And a null-void Kansas is…?” Keith asked.

“Null-cod can-seev,” Matt corrected, raising a finger. “And it’s a party to destress the body, mind, and spirit!”

“Right, and that means…?” Shiro prompted, waving his hands in a slow, circular motion.

“Oh!” Hunk pipped up suddenly, grinning. “I know!”

He was looking directly at Lance.

Did it suddenly get hot in here? Because Lance was starting to sweat under Hunk’s gaze.

Was Hunk saying he knew Lance wasn’t their Lance? _Already_?

“You know what a nulkod kansyv is?” Allura asked dryly, pushing up her glasses.

“Hm? Oh, no, I haven’t the faintest idea what that it,” Hunk quickly answered. “But I know what a party is, and I know what today is!”

He was still looking at Lance.

“Today’s…Tuesday?” Shiro guessed, looking at Keith as if for confirmation.

“ _Is_ today Tuesday?” Keith asked, scratching his head. “Do Tuesdays exist in space?”

“I have no idea what a ‘Tuesday’ is,” Pidge answered, her eye twitching as if she were one second away from screaming at everyone.

“Actually, if we’re going to base the day off of Earth calculations, then it’s technically Wednesday,” Allura piped up, looking down at a tablet in her hands.

Lance was starting to get a headache from everyone’s constant chatter. Was this what it was like for Keith back then?

“No, no, guys,” Hunk laughed. “I mean today’s Lance’s _birthday_!”

“It…” Lance blinked. “It is??”

“Oh, man, happy birthday, Lance!” Shiro cried out, moving to bear-hug him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Keith pouted.

(And, _wow_ , that was an image Lance wouldn’t be able to get out of his head for a very long time.)

“That means we’ve been in space for almost five whole months, holy shit!” Allura exclaimed.

“ _Language_ ,” Hunk chided, which was honestly hilarious coming from the guy who, in Lance’s reality, once swore so badly it actually made his grandmother _faint_ , all because he had accidently bought the wrong kind of flour for a cake he was supposed to bake for said grandmother’s anniversary.

“Whatever, _dad_ ,” Allura teased, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, happy birthday, Lance!”

“See!” Matt squealed excitedly. “Now we _really_ need a nulkod kansyv!”

Everyone turned to Pidge with pleading in their eyes, not that they were any clearer on what a nulkod kansev was.

She groaned again.

“Okay, okay. _Fine_. We’ll have a nulkod kansyv. Just _one_ though,” she emphasized, glaring at Matt. “Get changed everyone. Meet back here as soon as you’re done.”

“And bring your swimsuits!” Matt called after them!

Lance followed everyone out, listening as they all murmured excitedly. He felt Hunk’s arm slide over his shoulders.

“Can you believe you’re a legal adult?” he asked, grinning. “You can vote now!”

Lance laughed. “Can’t do much of that in space though, can I?”

Hunk snorted.

“Yeah, okay, you got me there,” he conceded. “But seriously, I’m sorry I forgot about—”

“Hunk, _no_ ,” Lance quickly interrupted. “It’s okay, I forgot too.”

Lance allowed himself a brief second to feel grief for this universe’s actual Lance that he wouldn’t be able to experience this.

“I’m so glad I can call you my brother!” Hunk grinned, throwing his arms around Lance and squeezing tightly.

Before Lance could ask if Hunk meant that literally, he was pulling back and speaking again.

“And maybe one day I can call Keith my brother- _in-law_ ,” he teased, winking.

“Oh my god,” Lance groaned, blushing bright red and hiding his face in his hands.

So, unsurprisingly, he had a crush on Keith in this universe too. Guess there’s always this one common denominator in every single reality. At least he and Hunk were alone and no one had overheard them.

Not that Lance was actually complaining—at least, not too much. He definitely preferred the universes where he and Keith were already together though. Less teasing. More kissing.

With a laugh, Hunk gently nudged Lance towards his room and went into his own.

Lance had to wait a moment to gather his bearings once the door shut.

This felt so real. So fucking real. It was like he was actually with _his_ Hunk, his cooking-enthusiast best bro in the whole world, who was like a brother to him, who knew about his crush on Keith before Lance himself knew…

A sudden wave of regret and sorrow overtook him, and for a second, he felt like he was drowning. He’d never see Hunk again. His Hunk. He’d never eat Hunk’s cooking or surf with him or laugh with him ever again.

 _Fuck,_ he cursed to himself. _Pull yourself together, Lance. You don’t have time for this._

In a daze, Lance changed into the red swim trunks in his closet. He pulled on a black tank top and grabbed one of the Altean towels. For the most part, his room looked like how it was in his world, but there was one picture that really caught his attention.

Tacked up on the wall by his bed was a picture with folded lines. It was of him, Hunk, and Hunk’s parents smiling brightly at the camera. Well, Hunk and his parents were. Lance looked…strangely shy. He was holding a sign that said:

**_After 1,796 days, I am officially adopted!!_ **

Guess that meant Hunk really _was_ his brother here.

He wondered what happened to his biological family. If only there was a way to ask without rousing suspicion…

Wait a minute!

Maybe he could ask Allu—uh, Pidge! She was Altean in this universe, so maybe she could answer if Lance’s Allura was doing this to him!

All he had to do was get her alone and convince her that he wasn’t some clone created by Haggar to tear the team apart from the inside!

…Wait, shit, was Shiro a clone already??

Or would it be Hunk…?

Lance ran his fingers through his hair, his thoughts racing. How long after they were jettisoned out into space did they lose Shiro again? Would his timeline even matter here? Are they even fighting the same bad guys or are Zarkon and Haggar good here, like they were in Harry Potter?

“Hey, man.”

Lance jumped.

“Oh my god, did I _scare you_??” Keith asked, his eyes bright with amusement.

“No,” Lance immediately responded.

“Sure, sure,” Keith laughed.

They were the last to arrive back at the control room.

“Finally!” Pidge exclaimed. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

And then suddenly they were standing on the planet that had been hovering below them not two seconds prior.

Lance’s knees wobbled from the sensation of being beamed down, as if they were in _Stark Trek_.

“Ugh, still not used to that,” Shiro groaned, holding his stomach.

“Now to set everything up!” Matt announced as he ran toward…toward…

_Holy shit a **beach**!_

Hunk nudged him, and when Lance looked up there was a familiar twinkle in his eye.

“Last one in the water is a rotten egg!” he shouted, already moving towards the purple waves.

“Oh, you’re _not_ beating me!” Lance shouted back, catching up to Hunk quicker than he expected to.

He definitely won, and he celebrated with a loud cheer as he splashed into the water. Hunk and Keith were right after him, Shiro only a few seconds after them, and Allura only a few seconds after him. Pidge walked into the water calmly, rolling her eyes at their antics.

It was weird seeing her so prim and proper, that Lance couldn’t help but splash her with water.

“Hey!” she growled, but it did the trick.

Soon, everyone was splashing everyone else. Lance dove under the water several times to grab his friends by their ankles and drag them down to fully submerge them. They only stopped when Matt called them back over to the gold-colored sand.

“Oh, wow!” Lance breathed out at the spread before them.

“Dude, this is amazing!” Shiro chimed in.

Set up on a pink stoned picnic table was a feast of delicious looking food and cups of hot liquid.

“I believe the Earthen word for this,” Matt said with flourish. “Is a beach tea party~!”

Allura grabbed one of the cups and sipped at it.

“Oh, shit, it _is_ tea!”

“Language,” Hunk reminded, sitting down.

“This is awesome, Matt,” Lance said sincerely, sitting next to Hunk.

“There’s even a cake,” Keith added, sliding in next to Lance, their bare skin touching.

If Lance had shivered at the contact, well, no one would know. Except maybe Shiro, who was smirking at them.

…Or was he only smirking at Keith?

Lance dared to glance over, and was pleased, though not very surprised, to find a blush coloring those pale cheeks.

The fact that in every universe, Keith liked him, almost made up for the fact that his own universe wasn’t the same.

( _Unless it was…?_

 _No, Lance, don’t go down that path. Not now._ )

After stuffing their faces with delicious—and some not-delicious, if he’s being honest—alien cuisine, and after singing several versions of ‘Happy Birthday’ in English, Spanish, and Altean, Shiro brought out what looked like a big bouncy-ball.

“Who’s ready for some volleyball!?”

He was grinning so widely that for a moment, Lance actually thought he was Hunk.

“Will that even work as a volleyball?” Allura asked, wrinkling her nose.

“What’s volleyball?” Pidge and Matt asked at the same time, with differing levels of enthusiasm.

Keith, already standing, waved at them all to follow him.

“We’ll teach you guys, come on!”

The ball was surprisingly heavier than it looked.

After about an hour of practice, they split off into teams. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge were on one side while Keith, Shiro, and Matt were on the other. Allura was the referee. It wasn’t quite the same, but Lance was reminded of the other universe he visited, where it was _Keith’s_ birthday, and they all played volleyball together too…among other things that he didn’t want to think about right now for fear of sporting a boner.

He really shouldn’t have been surprised when, just twenty minutes later, when it was Matt’s turn to serve, two things happened at once. One, Lance felt himself sway. Two, Matt smacked the ball so hard that he had enough time to think, _Oh, déjà vu times two I guess_ , before the ball hit him smack dab in the face.

It really was like that other time.

Lance could hear everyone shouting his name and running towards him. As he saw Pidge’s face, he remembered that he wanted to ask her about what was happening to him.

Well, fuck, too late for that now. He was already slipping down into the void.

At least there was still daylight for other Lance to enjoy his birthday/the nulkod kansyv.

At least other Lance lived in a universe where his Keith liked him back.

Before Lance could dwell on that thought any longer, he was waking up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some bits I couldn’t fit into the chapter:
> 
> \- Coran and Alfor are Allura’s dads and they were on the mission with Hunk, so she’s trying to find them  
> \- Just like canon!Pidge, she’s a computer genius and snuck into the Garrison to discover the truth of what happened to her dads
> 
> \- In this Altea, only women can rule, so even though Pidge (who goes by Kaytie here) is younger than Matt, she was in line for the throne (she didn’t want it though) while Matt was to be her princely advisor…until Zarkon attacked and their mother threw them in the cyropods for safety  
> \- This Pidge learns how to not be a dignified, uptight princess through the paladins and starts having fun like any other regular ol person  
> \- This Matt is always a bundle of joy and I love him so much…but yes, the exuberant enthusiasm he shows is a coping mechanism for how devastated he is that his planet, family, and friends are all dead
> 
> \- Lance’s dad died when he was 8, his mom wasn’t in the picture, so was put in the foster care system where he met Hunk and his family at 12, while Hunk was 15  
> \- He’s a decent mixture of canon!Lance’s interests and canon!Keith’s personality  
> \- When Hunk’s mission failed, he got kicked out of the Garrison  
> \- He is bi, but no in denial about it
> 
> \- Keith is still half-alien and he still grew up in Texas with his dad, but Daddy Kogane never died so Keith went to school with Shiro  
> \- Daddy Kogane eventually remarried and Keith has 3 younger half-siblings (oldest is 7 years younger)  
> \- He is gay
> 
> \- Shiro is Keith’s and his BFF, and they decided to attend the Garrison together, following in their idol’s (Hunk’s) footsteps  
> \- He’s Keith’s rock as he laments over not being able to get his crush’s (Lance’s) attention  
> \- He left his bf Adam behind when he ran after Keith and Allura like canon!Hunk did in ep 1
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Thunderpike AU  
> Movie AU ( **Magic Mike – NSFW** )  
> Camp Half-Blood AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	16. Sorry I Wasn’t Gold Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderpike AU
> 
> Or: Well Mark Lance Down as Scared _and_ Horny!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short, guys, just fair warning ☹️ But the next chapter is already written, so that should be posted next Friday!! ~~*knocks on wood*~~
> 
> In happier (ish) news: I started my Masters degree! Wahoo! More debt! 😃 🙃 lol ok in all seriousness, I’m actually super excited for it! This was my first week (and don’t worry, it was all online) and I’ve already made some friends 🥰 This is also why I wasn’t able to post yesterday; I was super-duper tired from waking up early and having to use my brain lmfao.
> 
> By the way, the son title comes from [Mothica’s](https://twitter.com/dearmothica) song "[By Now…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iX6oIxwj9dA)" and it’s GREAT, please give it a listen!! I love her so much!!

Lance has woken up in a variety of weird, abnormal, and terrifying ways. He thought he was prepared for anything the universe/Allura/whatever-it was-that-was-doing-this-to-him would put him through. He really thought he’d be ready for anything at this point…

Boy, was he wrong!

“Where is it?” someone hissed furiously. “Dammit!”

Slowly, Lance’s eyes refocused onto the figure before him. All he could see was their back, but whoever it was had long—like, _really long_ —black hair. It was braided all the way down past their ass. Speaking of their ass, it was only _just_ covered by the white dress they were wearing. Their feet were bare, but dirty, and atop their head was some sort of weird, twisted crown. They were emptying the content of some burlap sack.

“Dammit, dammit! Stupid thief!” they hissed again.

Oh, shit, wait a minute! They were actually _hissing-_ hissing. Like, _snake_ hissing. Like, _not-human_ hissing!

Lance tried to sit up, or run away, or _something_ , but he couldn’t. He was _tied up_.

The person whirled to face him, roaring, “ _WHERE IS IT_?!”

“Um,” Lance eloquently answered, blinking up at the towering figure.

The towering figure that had slits for eyes, a forked tongue, sharp, black talon-like nails, and, not a crown, but a pair of _horns_ atop their hair.

Also, though this didn’t surprise him nearly as much as the other things, but the towering, snake-ish figure was Keith.

(Raise your hand if you’re surprised? No one? Yeah, he didn’t think so.)

Keith, whose white dress—oh, no, that’s a tunic—was both short enough that Lance could tell he wasn’t wearing any sort of underwear (loin cloth?) and loose enough that Lance got an eyeful of chiseled abs and pink, perky nipples.

There was no way he was going to survive this universe. Not with Keith looking like _that_!

Not to mention, Keith was looking _at him_ like he wanted to eat his head…but not in the sexy way.

Yep, this was definitely the alternate reality that Lance would officially die in.

If only he had some wine to cheers himself with for a last hurrah.

Also, if only Pidge were here so he could meme his final moments as saying, _“Well, mark me down as scared and horny!”_

“Are you even paying attention?!” Keith hissed-screamed. “Where is it? Give it back!”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Lance admitted, hoping the sincerity of his voice would grant him a couple more minutes of life. “I just woke up here and—”

“Yes, I know,” Keith interrupted, steam coming out of his nostrils. “ _I_ brought you here, you imbecil. After you _stole_ my gem. It’s _my_ gem! Give it back!”

Well, this Keith was way more possessive than Lance ever expected him to be.

(Still scared. Still horny.)

“No, I mean, I’m not this universe’s Lance,” he tried again, frantically. “So, I really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about; please don’t kill me!”

“Your pathetic tricks won’t work on—”

Keith froze, his snarl melting away once he brought his face an inch away from Lance’s. He took a deep breath, paused, then jerked away.

“You smell like magic,” he accused. “But not any magic I know of.”

Lance blinked a few times, trying to understand what that even meant.

“Uh…I told you so?” he asked, unsure.

Keith leaned into his space again, sniffing his hair this time.

“You did not smell like this when I took you,” he said, frowning. “You’re different.”

“Yes,” Lance agreed, latching onto the words. “Yes, I am different! I’m a different Lance!”

“Lance?” Keith echoed, tilting his head. “That is not your name here.”

“It’s not?”

“You called yourself Pike.”

That sounded familiar.

Pike.

Pike, Pike, Pike, Pike, Pi—

Oh!

“From Magic and Monsters!” Lance exclaimed. “That game is _real_?”

Keith made a face.

“This is no game,” he said. “This is life.”

Lance remembered what the other Keith, from high school, had said to him.

_“I hate it and I wish my life was different, but…it’s real. It’s my reality. My life.”_

That felt so long ago right now. He hoped that Keith was doing well.

“Right, right, sorry,” Lance amended, swallowing down his remorse. “What’s your name?”

This reality’s Keith straightened his shoulders and jutted his chin out like some sort of king.

“I am Thunderstorm Darkness, child of Raging Wind, Leader of Dragonkind.”

Oh, he _was_ like some sort of king…

Well, that’s a lot to take in while still being tied up.

“A dragon, huh?” Lance mused, glancing him over.

He didn’t _not_ look like a dragon. Especially with the horns, sharp teeth, and slitted eyes. But, like, where was the wings? And the tail? And—

“Stop it,” Keith—er, Thunderstorm Darkness—hissed, covering his chest. “You’re just as perverted as the other one.”

Lance blushed and quickly averted his gaze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Then, hoping to change the subject, he asked, “What gem did the, uh, other me steal from you?”

For a moment, there was only silence, but just as he began looking up, Thunderstorm Darkness—okay, no, that was too long to think; Lance will just stick to Keith—huffed out a sigh and plopped down in front of him…reminding Lance _once again_ that he wasn’t wearing anything under that skimpy tunic.

“It’s big and red and very shiny. It’s my gem.”

“Does it have, um, any special powers or something?” he asked, still desperately trying not to think about the pale, soft coc—

“You creatures are so horny,” Keith scowled, pinching his nose.

Lance blinked up at him, mouth agape in surprise. Could Keith, like, _smell him_? That’s weird. Before he got the chance to ask, Keith continued.

“And so power-hungry.” Keith rolled his eyes. “No, my gem is not powerful. It’s just a gem. My favorite one.”

That was uncharacteristically anticlimactic for him.

“If you untie me, I’ll help you find it,” Lance promised.

Keith looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You are Lance, not Pike,” he said slowly, as if talking to a small child. “You might help, but Pike will not.”

Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Lance’ll give him that.

“True,” he began. “But I’m not sure when I’ll leave this world. I’m usually around for hours.”

But Keith shook his head.

“No, you will leave soon. I smell it.”

Now, Lance looked at Keith like he’d grown a second head. It had barely been twenty minutes since he arrived! Why the hell did Keith think—

Oh, shit, he just swayed.

“Told you,” Keith smirked. “Goodbye, Lance. You are quite pleasant.”

“Uh, thanks?” he said, his voice warbled in his ears. Then, “AHH DRAGON! DON’T EAT ME!”

Lance submerged into the dark void once again.

He was not at all prepared for what he’d be waking up to next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Again, sorry for the shortness of this chapter; I just couldn’t think of more to add,, 😓🙈
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Movie AU ( **Magic Mike – NSFW** )  
> Camp Half-Blood AU  
> Roommates AU (warning for big angst in this chapter)
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	17. But I Hold You Like I Do Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie AU – Magic Mike
> 
> Or: Lance Watches Keith Get Jiggy With It Then Lance Gets Jiggy With Keith Then The Jiggy Disappears Altogether

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some additional tags for this specific chapter include: #mild angst at the end, #age gap, #younger Keith, #(like 21/22 yao), #bottom Keith, #sub Keith, #Keith has a daddy kink, #technically a papi kink, & #Lance doesn’t know how to feel about it at first but by the end he’s definitely super into it.
> 
> Also, the song in the fic, not related to the title, is Slow Motion by Trey Songz. The title comes from Arms by The Paper Kites.

When Lance woke up, he was blind.

Panic bubbled up in his chest, especially once he recognized the hushed murmurings around him as voices. Was he kidnapped and tied up again? If he was, his capture probably wasn’t anything like sexy, half-dressed, dragon Keith from the other reality. Unless it was? After all, the common denominator in every reality, he’s been in, Keith has— 

Several things happened at once.

Lights turned on, and Lance realized that no, he hadn’t been blind; he was merely in a pitch-black room. Also, he couldn’t have been kidnapped because he wasn’t tied up, just frozen in blind panic, and the chair he was sitting in was a giant, cushioned loveseat.

He jumped as people began clapping, though the applause was quickly silenced shortly after. Turning his attention away from himself, Lance glanced up and immediately dropped his jaw.

There was a stage before him, a giant desolate stage with only a long, shining pole and a singular, lithe figure. The figure, donning a gold, sequenced dress, stood as still as a statue, their back to the audience. Still, Lance could tell that the person was gorgeous, just from the way they held themselves.

The silence after the audience stopped clapping was almost deafening, but then a smooth, silky voice surrounded Lance like a wet dream.

_Just wanna see you dance in slow motion~_

The figure turned around slowly, showing a short, black lacy veil covering their face. They started walking—no, _sauntering_ —towards the front of the stage.

Lance realized it wasn’t so much as a dress as it was a bathrobe. A long, fancy, golden sequenced bathrobe that reached past the floor and past the person’s hands.

As the music played, the figure started teasing the audience, letting the robe slip off their—no, _his_ —shoulders. He was also wearing black stiletto heels that he would show off, along with his pale, glittery leg.

So far, all the man did was strut up to the front of the stage and then back to center where the stripper pole was, but nonetheless, Lance was already hard. It didn’t help that the figure looked so much like Keith, who he’d just seen in skimpy, revealing clothing in the last reality. Also, with the way his life (afterlife?) has been going, this probably _was_ Keith.

Oh, god he hoped it was Keith.

He let out a small moan, squirming in his seat. The sound was drowned out by the music and the other patrons, who’s low murmurs had slowly been turning into soft groans and moans too.

_I know you got all dressed up for the club~_

The robe finally fell off the man’s shoulders, revealing a hairless, chiseled chest covered in golden sparkles as well as a tight pair of golden booty shor—

Lance choked as the man leaned against the pole, arching seductively, because in that moment, he realized two very, very important details.

One, it wasn’t booty shorts. It was a _thong_.

The man had turned so his back was to the audience and the pole was spread by his ass cheeks. He bent down and the audience went stiff (in all the ways) with excitement. Then he looked behind him, head tilted and lips glistening, and he winked.

_When I saw ya walking out the door~_

Two, that figure was definitely, undoubtedly _Keith_.

Keith, who caught Lance’s eyes in the dark, and _kept them there the entire time_.

Holy shit, Lance could barely breath.

He was keenly aware of the other people around him, also watching Keith with hunger in their eyes, but Keith never spared them a glance. Whenever his back wasn’t turned to the audience, his eyes always found their way to Lance.

_Finna give you something that you won’t forget~_

Even as he slowly climbed and twirled around the pole, arching and _humping_ it, his hips undulating in a way that had Lance actively grinding his pants in a weak attempt at relief, he only looked to Lance.

Was it getting hotter in here? Or did Keith have some sort of fire superpower, because Lance was _sweltering_.

The worst/best part was when Keith dropped into a middle split, his hands still gripping at the pole so his hips were canted and his ass bounced from the movement. But then, Keith started twerking, so his ass _kept bouncing_.

Fuck, Lance wasn’t going to survive this.

Keith rolled though the split into [frog pose](https://www.google.com/search?q=dance+frog+stretch+feet+apart&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwj9pKy5kcvrAhUBUawKHeopBzUQ2-cCegQIABAA&oq=dance+frog+stretch+feet+apart&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQAzoECCMQJzoECAAQHlCUmQNYwKUDYMCmA2gAcAB4AIABZYgBoQeSAQQxMC4xmAEAoAEBqgELZ3dzLXdpei1pbWfAAQE&sclient=img&ei=I-lPX72HI4GisQXq05yoAw&bih=578&biw=1263&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS755US755&hl=en&hl=en#imgrc=mXmzrZeV3jxifM), his hips flush with the ground. Then, he reached a hand behind him and pulled the flesh of his ass, teasing the audience with a tantalizing glimpse of the spot they all wanted to be between.

_Oh, darling I just want to get you out dem clothes~_

Sweet, baby quiznak, Lance almost came in his pants right fucking there.

He prayed to Allura, the universe, every god he knew about, to allow him to stay in this reality long enough so he could do just that—take Keith out of those clothes.

(Because he and Keith were together here, right? Keith wouldn’t be looking at him like _that_ , if they weren’t…would he?)

The doubt quickly flew out of his mind as Keith body-rolled to his feet and began climbing the pole once again to showcase his gravity-defying strength. He continued twisting and turning, sliding and humping, until…

_We can take, we can take, we can take our time; stay here~_

…Until the music faded out and the lights dimmed.

Fucking hell, how was it over already? But also, why did he feel like it lasted for _eons_?

“Lance,” a gruff voice whispered in his ear, causing him to jump.

He whipped his head towards the voice, startled to see _Shiro_ smirking at him.

“Come with me.”

Swallowing nervously, he quietly followed Shiro into the back room, barely paying attention to a voice saying, _“Gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight. Here is one final encore from all of our dancers.”_

His brain was still clouded with lust. Keith was some sort of stripping, pole dancing _god_ , and he preformed like _Lance_ was his only audience.

It wasn’t until they were walking into a back hallway that Lance started to worry. Shiro was dressed like a bouncer—black, sleek clothes; a black, wireless earpiece; a simple, yet deadly black semiautomatic holstered to his thigh—and considering just how, well, _erotic_ that dance had been, this was most certainly not a regular club.

(Unless, in this reality, this _was_ a regular type of club? No, stop, Lance, don’t get distracted with _What Ifs_ right now.)

Shiro, the bouncer with a gun, was leading Lance away from the general audience, where he could faintly hear more music playing. Was he in trouble? Was the Lance of this reality not supposed to be in this club?

But then Shiro stopped at one of the nondescript doors and opened it.

“He’ll be with you in a moment,” he said, leaving with a wink.

That crossed off him being in trouble.

Looking around, it quickly became very apparent that this was a dressing room, but not just any dancer’s dressing room—it was _Keith’s_.

Gingerly, Lance picked up a picture frame in awe. It was him and Keith, though he looked several years older than the other. Keith couldn’t have been more than twenty or so in the photo, but Lance looked ten years his senior, if not more.

Glancing in the mirror, taking note of the lack of Altean marks, Lance figured he was in his mid-to-late thirties about now. He looked back at the picture, carefully tracing the image. They looked so happy, him and Keith. Their arms were around each other, grinning wide like they were in the middle of laughing. One of the photos next to it was them in black and white, backs facing the camera while they’re hands were dipped into the others’ pockets.

That one had Lance’s breath catching in his throat.

From the back, the age difference wasn’t as obvious, and the photo could’ve been one from his own reality.

If Keith liked him that way, of course.

If Lance was even alive to find out if Keith could ever like him that way…

He tore his gaze away from the photograph, squeezing his eyes shut. He’d much rather be teased and edged by the universe than reminded of how he’d never actually have this sort of relationship with Keith. With _his_ Keith.

“How’d you like the show?”

Startled, Lance yelped, nearly dropping the picture frame. Quickly, he looked up, simultaneously relieved and anxious to see it was only Keith. He leaned against the door frame, smirking, and still mostly-naked.

Now that he was in front of Lance, it was clear that Keith wasn’t that much older than how he was in the first picture. He was probably barely able to drink.

“It was really great,” Lance said, throat dry, as he placed the picture frame back on the vanity.

Keith walked up to him like a predator stalking its prey. A practically nude predator.

“Just great?” he asked.

His voice was tantalizing; his smirk taunting.

Lance swallowed thickly.

“Fucking fantastic?” he tried again.

It was easy to let go of his worries with Keith was standing in front of him like that. Also, this was his (tenth? fifteenth?) reality; he’s a pro at ignoring the inevitable to live in the moment by now. All he had to do was take in the glitter on Keith’s naked chest, the crisp, black eyeliner accenting his eyes, the sweat on his brow that trickled down his face, the glistening, plump lips…

Yeah, Lance was back to being hard as a rock already.

“Now there’s an idea,” Keith murmured before grabbing Lance’s face and bringing it down to meet his.

Automatically, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s very, very bare waist and, _shit_ , grabbed at the supple flesh of his ass, squeezing and kneading it. When Keith rolled his hips, showing Lance just how hard he was too, Lance couldn’t help the whimper that came over him.

“I want you so bad,” Keith moaned, pulling them backwards until his shoulder bumped into the wall. “Fuck me here, papi, I want your cock _so bad_ ~!”

Truthfully, Lance never really had a Daddy (Papi?) kink before, but there was absolutely no way he could deny Keith when he sounded so wrecked already.

Unfortunately, shoving Keith’s thong off meant Lance had to stop kissing him. Still, it was entirely worth it to see his pretty, pale cock spring out of its containment.

Kissing his thighs, he asked, “Lube?”

Keith grinned and reached into the inner pocket of Lance’s jacket.

Oh.

Quickly, he took off the jacket, but before he could move to the buttons on his shirt, Keith stopped him.

“No, I want you to fuck me in your clothes, papi. Please.”

 _Oh_.

Oh, holy shit.

Yeah, okay, he could do that.

He could _definitely_ do that.

Surging forward to capture Keith’s lips again, he uncapped the lube and coated his fingers. Keith raised his right leg and hooked it around Lance’s so he could get a better angle.

“Oh, _yes_ ,” he moaned as Lance sunk a finger into him.

For a few minutes, all he did was finger fuck Keith while he rutted against Lance’s jeans, his cock already leaking. If it weren’t the for the fact that Lance knew they’d had to have done this before, he would’ve wondered if Keith were a virgin from all the sounds he was making.

When he could loosely scissor Keith with three fingers, he was sure the entire backstage could hear Keith’s moans.

“I’m ready, papi, I’m ready,” he gasped. “Please, please, fuck me, papi~! I’m ready, I’m so ready, papi~!”

Lance undid his pants faster than he’s ever done before.

Keith was much easier to lift than he anticipated, though it did help that Keith was leaning into the wall behind him too. His hair was fanned out on it, looking thoroughly disheveled.

Lance couldn’t help kissing him. It wasn’t tender or sweet or slow. It was _fast_. Hungry and greedy.

“ _Papi_ ,” Keith whined when he pulled away. Then, just as Lance was lining him up to sink perfectly on his cock, Keith asked, panting, “Am…Am I still your little kitten?”

Kitten?

 _Kitten_?

Oh, how fucking _cute_!

“You never stopped being my little kitten,” he promised, voice low and gravely. “Now, _take it_ , kitten~”

He lowered Keith on his cock, hands painfully digging at Keith’s ass.

“S-Shit!” Keith gripped at Lance’s shoulders, arching himself further into the wall as he sunk down. “Yes, papi! Fuck, you’re so fat~! Make me so full~!”

“How’s my kitten feeling?” Lance asked, nipping at Keith’s ear.

“Need more,” he moaned back. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard, papi~”

And Lance let loose, driving his hips sharply into Keith’s spread legs. There would undoubtedly be bruises on Keith’s inner thighs and ass the next day, Lance was sure.

“Yes!” Keith cried out, moving his hips in cadence to Lance’s thrusts as best he could. “Right there, papi! _Papi_ ~!”

While Lance couldn’t reach Keith’s lips, he could reach his chest and nipples. He made sure to leave a beautiful canvas of hickeys and bite marks on that pale skin. When his tongue trailed over a hardened nipple, Keith bucked in surprise.

After only the barest pause, Lance grinned deviously and immediately did it again.

“ _Nugh_ ~!” Keith whined. “Papi, please…!”

He continued licking and nibbling and abusing those little stumps, and soon he felt Keith’s entire being _convulse_ as his hole clenched tightly.

“I-I’m coming,” he panted, hands shaking. “Don’t stop, p-papi!”

Lance didn’t think he could still himself even if he tried. Keith quivered in his arms while his untouched cock erupted all over his bare stomach and Lance’s shirt.

“Good kitten,” Lance found himself saying. “That’s it, keep going. Come for papi.”

He watched in rapture as Keith’s mouth parted open in a scream, his eyes scrunched together tightly. Through it all, Lance didn’t stop thrusting into him. He _couldn’t_. He wanted to see Keith come again like a drowning man wanted the ocean’s floor to rise up to his feet.

Almost immediately after Keith relaxed in his arms, panting and squirming, he was tensing again.

“ _Papi_!”

“Is it too much, kitten?” he asked, amused.

Fuck, he was _so close_.

“N-No…” Keith whimpered out. “Don’t stop. Don’t let me go…”

Lance instinctual pulled Keith closer to him, away from the wall so he could drape himself over Lance, clutching at his shoulders and back. Instead of moving Keith’s body on and off his cock, he held Keith’s hips in one place, bending his knees to fully fuck into him with fervor.

It was barely a minutes later when Keith keened into Lance’s ear, nails dragging down Lance’s back as he came for a second time.

He wasn’t even finished when Lance groaned out, “I can’t hold back anymore, kitten.”

“Fill me up,” Keith whispered in his ear. Tears fell down his face to pool into Lance’s neck. “ _Breed me, papi_ ~”

Lance would’ve never thought he’d ever come to those words, especially being said by _Keith_ , yet here he was, having one of the _best_ orgasms of his _life_!

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he groaned afterward.

His arms shook violently, as if they suddenly realized he’d been holding Keith up for what had to be over ten minutes now.

“D-Don’t let me go yet, Lance,” Keith asked quietly. “ _Please_.”

He almost didn’t catch Keith calling him by his actual name.

Almost.

After a pause, he said, “Okay, kitten.”

Humming, Keith nuzzled his face deeper into Lance’s neck.

It seemed Lance’s legs knew what to do because suddenly he was across the room and sitting down on the sheet-covered couch. Keith groaned at the movement, shifting his hips on Lance’s softening cock, as if he was looking for more friction. He shivered in Lance’s arms, pressing himself flush against Lance’s front.

“You’re hard again,” Lance murmured, surprised.

“Always hard for _you_ ,” Keith answered breathlessly, hiding his face in the crook of Lance’s neck.

This felt different than before. There wasn’t the same sense of urgency, of _hunger_.

Slowly, suddenly afraid of making the wrong move, Lance moved his hands from Keith’s ass to his thighs, rubbing the goosebumps that had formed there. When Keith rocked his hips again, moaning, Lance moved to his cock.

“Oh, god,” Keith whined, trembling and fisting Lance’s first. “Too… ‘S too much…!”

Lance kissed Keith’s shoulder, stilling, and asked, “Want me to stop?”

Keith quickly shook his head, hips rocking against Lance’s hand.

“Okay, okay,” Lance soothed, slowly rubbing his thumb along the tip. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’m here. I got you.”

Barely twenty seconds later, Keith came, painting Lance’s shirt white once again.

“S-Sorry about your shirt,” he stuttered. He shook as if he were freezing. “And your p-pants.”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Gently, Lance maneuvered Keith off him, trying not to stare too much at how his cum dripped out of Keith. The couch seemed to be big enough for the both of them, so Lance laid down on his side, his back pressed against the back of the couch while he wrapped Keith in his arms, holding him close.

For a moment, all was quiet except for Keith’s heavy breathing. Lance didn’t want to ever let go. He didn’t want to leave this reality. He was Keith’s here. Keith was his. They were together, and Lance didn’t ever want to—

“Lance.”

He blinked awake, surprised that he’d even fallen asleep. That he was still _here_. Grateful, ever-so-grateful, but still surprised.

“Lance, I’m…” Keith said again; his voice quiet, but very tense. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lance repeated, wracking his brain in confusion. “For what?”

Keith replied so softly that had his face not been barely an inch away from Lance’s he wouldn’t have heard:

“For loving you.”

“W- _What_?!”

Lance couldn’t have heard right.

He _couldn’t_ have heard right!

Keith _loved_ him? And he was _sorry_ for loving him?!

“I know,” Keith whispered in a rush. “I know that you’re m-married and you have a _kid_ and you can’t be with _me_ , but _I love you_ and—”

He broke off in a sob.

Lance could do nothing but hold him tightly and will his own tears to not stray down his face. He’d been so sure, _so sure_ , that this reality was…was _good_! That he and Keith lived a happy, wonderful life together… _together_ …

But he was wrong.

He was so, so devastatingly _wrong_.

He wanted to fix this, wanted to fix it so fucking badly—but _how_? He didn’t know anything about this reality Lance’s life, let alone his thoughts or desires.

Was there even anything he could say to ease Keith’s pain?

…Probably not.

So, he did the only thing he could do. He held Keith close.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Keith repeated over and over again through guttural, heartbreaking sobs. “ _I love you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Lance, I love you…_ ”

When Lance felt himself sway a few minutes later, all he could feel was relief. He didn’t want to live in a world like this, where Keith loved him and he clearly felt _something_ , but they weren’t together.

Still, he didn’t want to leave like this.

Quickly, before he lost control of the body, he took Keith’s face in his hand and brought it to his own. Keith kissed him back fiercely.

Sinking lower into the blackness, Lance felt the ghost of hunger surge back into the kiss, completely overtaking the tenderness he had poured into it. The last thing he heard was Keith’s gasping whine of desire and overstimulation.

Once again, he found himself wishing he wouldn’t wake up.

Once again, he did anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …So, on second thought the angst isn’t mild at all, and it’s actually quite a heaping amount 😭 I am so, so sorry, guys, I actually made myself tear up ~~(and get hella horny too lmfao)~~ during the final edits of this 😭😭
> 
> This won’t even come close to the angst I’m putting into the Roommates AU though, so please keep that in mind. Camp Half-Blood will not have angst, I swear! Pinky promise! (Also, neither will the YouTube AU!)
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Camp Half-Blood AU  
> Roommates AU **(warning for angst and maybe nsfw too)**  
>  YouTube AU (based off my fic When Life Gives You Waves, Ride Them Out)
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	18. Lay here for years or for hours // So long we become the flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp Halfblood AU
> 
> Or: Lance and the Time His Alternate Self Probably Has It Even Worse Than He Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you were super excited about this chapter, so I hope I’ve done it justice!! 🙏🤞 And I am _**so, so, so sorry**_ for the long wait—my first grad school semester was kicking my ass with all the papers😭
> 
> Also, I’ll include all the characters and their godly parents below in the End Note for y’all🥰 And [this is a map of Camp Half-Blood/](https://rickriordan.com/extra/a-map-of-camp/) that I used for reference, though I did take quite a bit of creative liberties too lol.
> 
> ⚠️Warning for angst in the beginning and brief thoughts of death (though no suicide mention!)⚠️

Lance woke up with a jolt, gasping. His lips tingled with the memory of Keith, as though it had really been _these_ lips that had kissed him…

…But it wasn’t these lips that had kissed Keith.

It wasn’t these hands that had roamed over Keith’s body, feeling the muscles tighten and tremble underneath the fingertips. It wasn’t these eyes that had drank him in, savoring each second where Keith was _his_.

The sharp sting he felt was definitely from these eyes though.

The heaviness in his chest was definitely from this body.

With a choked, broken sob, he curled up on his side, grabbed his pillow, and finally let himself _feel_.

He cried for that other reality Keith, cried for his own Keith. He cried for himself, for not being enough before all this happened and for somehow not being _dead_ and _done_ now.

He didn’t want to do this again. He _couldn’t_ do this again. Why would he want to keep going through reality after reality, getting just a taste of what could be, but never will? He just wanted _his_ reality. _His_ Keith and his Hunk and _his_ Pidge and _his_ Shiro…

But he knew he couldn’t go back there.

If he could, he would’ve already been back by now, wouldn’t he have?

Yeah, he would’ve.

But he wasn’t.

So he wanted death.

He wanted _peace_.

He wanted—

“Lance?”

Oh, for fucks sake, **_what now?_**

“Lance, they’re here! Why are you—? Oh, gods! Lance, are you okay?!”

Orange swarmed his vision and he was wrapped up in a giant bear hug. Only one person could give hugs like this, so he sunk into the embrace.

“Hunk,” he whimpered, burying his face in the broad shoulder and breathing in the scent of his friend.

He ignored the uncharacteristic sharp smell of motor oil clinging to his friend’s clothes.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Hunk told him, gently rocking them back and forth. “You’re at camp, Lance, you’re safe. You’re not there, I promise. You’re not there anymore; you’re _safe_.”

He didn’t know where ‘there’ was that he supposedly wasn’t, but it didn’t really matter because Lance could supply his own answer. He wasn’t at home, wasn’t with _his_ Hunk, wasn’t in _his_ bed, wasn’t—

Hunk pulled back, his own eyes wet with tears, and looked him in the eye.

“You should tell Coran you’re still having nightmares,” he whispered.

All Lance could think about was how it had been a while since he’d seen Coran in a reality.

“It’s been _months_ , Lance. I don’t think having these dreams is good.”

“They’re just dreams,” he replied, feeling like his mouth was full of cotton.

Hunk levelled him with a look—it was one-part pity, one-part confusion, and about eight-parts worry.

“Lance, it’s _never_ just dreams. You know this.”

Rather than ask, Lance merely shrugged, and when Hunk pulled him back into a hug, he rested heavily against his friend. This time, it only lasted a few seconds.

“But let’s worry about this later,” he declared, clearly fronting bravado. “The Romans are finally here, _Keith_ is here, so let’s get dressed and show him around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed quietly.

Then he froze.

The… _Romans_...?

Like…people from _Rome_?

He had to heave heard that wrong…right?

Hunk’s back was already turned from him, thankfully, so he didn’t see how utterly bewildered Lance was. By the time he came back, an orange shirt and white swim trunks in his hands, Lance managed to school his features.

 _‘Camp Half-Blood’_ the shirt read, though the words were incredibly faded.

“I feel like an orange creamsicle,” he muttered, checking himself out in the mirror after dressing.

“You always say that,” Hunk laughed.

Lance looked around the cabin, taking in the light-blue walls and seashell covered columns in each corner of the area. There was a fountain on the wall facing the front door, and from what Lance could tell, it was filled with a few koi fish. He started wondering how they survived in such a small space, but he quickly dismissed the thought—knowing his luck, the answer was probably magic or alchemy or something.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave these walls. As foreign as they were, they were also comforting in a way. Maybe it was because they seemed to glow? Just a little bit. And it smelled like the _ocean_. In here, Lance could just be himself, his true self, but out there, past these seashelled walls…well, he didn’t know what he’d have to be out there, let alone what he’d face.

“Are you _really_ deciding which shoes to wear?” Hunk asked, exasperated. “Dude, just wear your flipflops like you always do!”

“Heh, yeah, okay,” Lance grinned, slipping into the worn, but comfortable sandals.

“And last, but obviously not least,” Hunk announced, holding out a necklace with six beautifully colored beads.

Lance took it and carefully clasped it around his neck. Something told him this necklace was special. _Sentimental_. Just like these walls, it brought him some semblance of comfort, but he’s sure it was just because this body was used to the weight and feel of it.

Just before he could gather his courage to walk out the safety of these walls, Hunk gently laid a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t even looking at Hunk, but suddenly, all the energy and excitement he’d gathered drained from him. It wasn’t even a lot to begin with, but now Lance felt even more exhausted than before.

Slowly, he turned towards Hunk’s face, stomach dropping at the solemn look on it.

“I know you won’t tell Coran about the nightmares,” he started. “And I know I can’t force you to, even though we _both_ know how dangerous demigod’s dreams are.”

_…Demigods?_

“But _please_ , at least tell Keith.”

“Keith?” Lance repeated, voice strangled.

“You were both…you know,” Hunk whispered. “You were there _together_. He might even be having nightmares too.”

_There together._

But where was ‘there’? Where were they together?

And _why_ were they together?

And are they… _together_ -together?

“I’ll…ask him,” he finally said, unsure what else to do.

Relief washed over Hunk’s face so quickly he started crying.

“Thank you, Lance,” he whispered, choking on the words. “I just…I want you to be safe. Be _okay_.”

Lance pulled him into a hug.

“I _am_ safe,” he assured. “I’m with you, right?”

“Right,” Hunk repeated, though it didn’t sound as though he truly agreed.

A few minutes passed as Hunk gathered himself. Funny how earlier, it had been Lance crying in his arms.

“Okay… Okay, I’m good,” Hunk said, finally pulled away and wiping his eyes.

“You sure, buddy?”

“Yeah, I’m—”

“What the Hades’ is taking you two so damn long?!”

Lance and Hunk jumped, both falling into a fighting stance…but not the ones Lance was used to. Rather than reaching for his bayard and positioning himself like he would shoot his cyber-rifle, he crouched, one hand touching the ground, the other going to his side, fingers splayed. Hunk’s hands also went to his side, floundering like they expected something to be there to grab.

“It’s just me, idiots,” Pidge said, frowning. She wore an orange shirt too. “Hunk, you look ridiculous without your toolbelt. And Lance, you don’t have your water pouch, so if breaking your cabin’s floor was really your go-to move, your dumber than Hera’s cows.”

“Pidge!” Hunk hissed, looking out the window, toward the blue sky. “Don’t say that.”

She leveled him a look. Then turned to lean out the door and shout:

“HERA’S COWS ARE DUMB! I CAN MAKE MECHANICAL FROGS SMARTER THAN THOSE DAMN COWS!”

“Oh gods, we’re so screwed,” Hunk muttered hiding his face in his hands.

Lance stood up slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out his questions.

“So, anyway,” Pidge started, turning back to face them. “The Romans have been here for about an hour now. You’re late.”

There it was again… _the Romans_. So, he hadn’t heard wrong. Still didn’t have any clue what that meant though, and he’s pretty sure Hera wasn’t Roman. Like, a solid 89% certain Hera was not Roman.

But on the other hand, this _was_ an alternate reality…maybe Hera, whoever she was, was indeed Roman.

“When are we ever on time?” Lance joked, hoping to ease the tension.

It worked.

“Point taken, mermaid wannabe,” Pidge laughed. “Now come on, Coran’s already losing the reigns on his patience.”

Hunk snorted at that, like Pidge had made some sort of joke, so Lance gave Pidge some finger guns, winked, and said, “Mighty punny of you.”

She rolled her eyes and Hunk outright laughed at it. Neither acted suspicious of him, which was great, but even better was that Hunk seemed a little less worried of “Hera” now.

“You think you’re so cute,” Pidge sighed, turning on her heel.

Lance followed her and Hunk out of the cabin with a, “Because I _am_ cute, Pidgeon,” and then promptly froze in the doorway at the view.

Because _holy shit_!

It was absolutely _gorgeous_!

There were cabins all around his, each one uniquely decorated and homey…except for the two to the left of him. They stood by their lonesome and looked, well, _lonely_. Nobody seemed to live in them, but Lance wasn’t about to ask to doublecheck. That would definitely make it obvious he wasn’t their Lance from their reality.

From the outside, his own cabin was a pale blue and looked almost exactly like one of those beach house condos—the expensive ones too! Despite that, he could tell he was the only one to live in it.

(And no, it wasn’t just because the cabin was only filled with his own things. There was a…a sense of loneliness surrounding his cabin too. He got the distinct feeling it used to be a lot lonelier in the past.)

As the three of them walked away from cabins, towards a big house in the distance, Lance looked behind him one last time.

He nearly stumbled when he caught sight of the giant rock-climbing wall, that was coated in what looked like _lava_. It was far away enough that he couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but that was _definitely_ steam emitting from the red liquid.

What. The. Fuck.

“Damn, Lance, why so quiet?”

Lance startled, looking up to see Pidge angling her head at him quizzically.

“Are you nervous or something?”

“I…”

“Pidge,” Hunk warned pointedly, looking at her with wide, frantic eyes and lifted eyebrows.

“What? He usually doesn’t shut up! Especially when it comes to _Keith_! I swear I know more about that boy than I do my own damn brother!”

“ _Pidge_!”

“Do I really talk about Keith that much?” Lance asked.

Maybe he’d finally get some answers about this reality.

“Ever since you were twelve,” Pidge replied, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you discovered that the other demigods existed _five flippin’ years_ before I did! I’m the smart one! I should’ve been the one to put two and two together!”

“Not this again,” Hunk muttered, sighing.

“Greek demigods exist, obviously,” Pidge continued, gesturing between the three of them. “So, why couldn’t the Roman demigods exist too?! I should’ve realized it six years ago, dammit!”

“Pidge, you were _ten_ six years ago,” Hunk reminded with all the exhaustion of someone who’s had the same exact conversation hundreds of times. “Give yourself some credit.”

“I’m a child of Athena!” she shouted. “Being ten is no excuse!”

Dammit, they were getting off track! Lance had been _so close_ to getting some answers!

“Right, but I haven’t _really_ talked about Keith that much, right buddy?” he asked, turning to Hunk.

“Are you kidding me?” Pidge cried, turning to him. “Have you forgotten our first quest already!? You’d only just met the kid and then two days later, Hunk made that muzzle contraption because you wouldn’t stop talking about his mullet and eyes and weird knife!”

Lance blinked.

He turned to Hunk, who averted his gaze and hunched his shoulders. Well, that answered that question.

Turning back to Pidge, he said solemnly, “I can tell this is really bothering you.”

Hunk burst out into laughter as Pidge threw her hands up in the air.

“Holy Hades, whatever gave you _that_ impression?! Is it the fact that you meet Keith, a _Roman_ demigod at _twelve_? Or maybe it’s because you met him _again_ on your next quest, with _my_ damn _brother_ , that you went on when you were only _fourteen_!”

“Allura was there that time too,” Hunk added.

“You’re not helping!” She scowled at him. “Demigods go on, like, _one_ quest their entire lifetime, and Lance has been on _five_!”

“And we both had three,” Hunk reminded. “That’s _two_ more than most usually have.”

Pidge groaned. “But we didn’t know about the Romans until that third one! When the prophecy said—”

She stopped abruptly, eyes widening.

“And now she realizes,” Hunk muttered.

Lance bit his lip to not shout his frustration.

They’d been on such a roll!

So, the three of them were Greek demigods, along with Matt and Allura, it seemed, and he first met Keith, a Roman demigod, six years ago when he was twelve. Pidge was a daughter of Athena, who, if Lance remembered, was the super smart goddess. She popped out of Zeus’ head—that really wasn’t something one could easily forget after hearing it.

He wasn’t sure who Hunk was the son of, but he had smelled of motor oil earlier, and Pidge mentioned him _making_ something. Wasn’t there some sort of, like forging god? Or mechanic god? Hunk had to be that dude’s son.

And Lance himself…well, considering his cabin and the fact that Pidge had mentioned something about a water bag, his godly parent had to be the god of the sea: Poseidon.

(She also mentioned something about breaking his cabin’s floor too…was she implying Lance could make earthquakes? Is that something Poseidon could even do? He should look it up.)

He also knew that he’d been on five missions— _quests_ , Pidge called them—and on that last one, _something_ happened. Something _big_. Something had him and Keith trapped somewhere together and was giving this reality’s Lance nightmares, which was apparently a bad thing for demigods.

“Oh, good we’re here,” Pidge said awkwardly, quickly climbing up the steps of the big house.

“Sorry she brought it up,” Hunk whispered to him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She just gets so caught up sometimes, you know. Really likes learning and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed with a short nod. “I get it. It’s fine.”

Maybe this Keith could explain the rest of it.

Following Pidge up the stairs and into the house, Lance turned the corner and froze.

There were _so many_ eyes on him.

He recognized every single one of them, of course, though that didn’t mean he really _knew_ everyone in front of him.

On the couch, were Shiro and Romelle, wearing purple shirts, snuggling with Adam and Allura, who wore orange. Matt, wearing an orange shirt, was standing next to Coran, who was shirtless and a horse.

Yeah.

A _horse_.

Well, technically, Lance supposed, he was a _centaur_ , but still.

He was a fucking horse!

“Ah, Lance, Hunk. So nice of you two to finally join us,” he said, his tail flicking in a way that Lance just _knew_ meant he was irritated.

“Got distracted figuring out what to wear,” Lance said, his mouth moving before his brain could stop it.

That’s when Keith, who was sitting on one of the loveseats, snorted.

“Sure you’re not a child of Venus with that vanity?”

“Hey!” Allura pipped up. “It’s _Aphrodite_ here, and there’s nothing wrong with being a child of Aphrodite.”

“Well, I mean, _you’re_ not va—”

“Keith,” Shiro whispered loudly. “Don’t dig yourself into a deeper hole there, buddy.”

Shit, wow, okay more information already.

So, Allura was a child of Aphrodite, the love goddess chick. And she seemed to be involved with Romelle, who was a Roman demigod. Shiro, another Roman demigod, had to be involved with Adam, from the way their legs were tangled together.

“You look as lovely as always, Lance,” Coran said, sounding both sincere and exasperated at the same time. “You’re just in time to join the tour since we just finished all the rules.”

“Yeah, you really missed the important stuff, Lance,” Adam said, snickering.

Coran shot him a glare, then just sighed.

“Young love,” he mumbled. “ _Fool’s_ love.”

“I heard that~!” Allura sang, looking up at Coran with a smile that was somehow also a frown.

“You were supposed to,” he said. “Now, hup-hup! Off you go! Explore the camp, meet the others, and enjoy yourselves! And don’t get into trouble, _please_.”

After a not-very-convincing promise to behave, everyone piled out of the room. Adam, Allura, Shiro, Romelle, and Matt started walking already, towards the strawberry field. Lance moved to follow them, but Hunk grabbed his arm.

“Hey, let’s start at the volleyball court,” he said, pulling Lance in the other direction.

“You have a volleyball court?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow as he followed after them.

“Nah, it’s really just a pile of snakes, but we call it a volleyball court just for funsies,” Lance sassed before his brain could tell his mouth to stop.

Keith snorted though, a smile tugging at his lips.

“As if you could take on a pile of snakes,” he teased.

Just as they walked up on the court, Pidge loudly announced, “Oh, no. I just remembered the thing. I can’t believe I forgot the thing. Hunk, come help me with the thing.”

“Oh no, not the thing! We should go do that. Get that. Don’t wait up for us!”

Lance blinked at their hastily retreating forms, torn between irritation and relief.

One on hand, he didn’t know the campground _at all_ —how the fuck was he supposed to give Keith a tour of it?! Not to mention, that was some of the worst acting he’s seen in his life!

…But on the other hand, if it was just him and Keith, maybe he could get some answers. And some kisses too, if everything worked out.

(Should he be concerned how nonchalant he’s being about kissing someone else’s boyfriend? Sure, it’s his own alternate reality’s self’s boyfriend and he’s _in_ his alternate reality’s self’s body…but, _technically_ , he’s not his alternate reality’s self…but also, technically, he’s still somewhere else in the universe _dying_ so, a little kiss can’t hurt any more than that.)

“Wow, that wasn’t obvious at all,” Keith muttered, standing beside him, arms crossed.

“There’s a reason they’re not part of our theater group.”

Keith frowned at him. “You guys have a theater group too?”

“Meh, it’s not that interesting,” Lance shrugged, hoping it was either A) true or B) not brought up ever again. “So, where do you want to go first?”

“The beach,” Keith readily answered, then blushed. “Um, I mean, you were always talking about it, so I’d like to…to see it.”

Now that was definitely something Lance could do.

Even without ever being there, he knew exactly where to go—for one, he could smell the slaty, ocean air, but two, it was like the water was pulling him and all he had to do was follow.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispered, smiling softly.

Keith smiled back at him, just as soft.

As they walked, his hand brushed against Lance’s. Feeling brave, Lance grabbed it. Keith didn’t yank his hand; no, rather, he held on tighter.

“This is nice,” he said, voice cracking. Clearing his throat, he continued with, “I’ve, um, I’ve missed you, Lance.”

“I’ve missed you too, Keith.”

 _More than you’ll ever know,_ he added to himself. _More than **he** , my Keith, might ever know…_

“Life’s been pretty crazy since, you know,” Keith gestured around vaguely. “Everything.”

“Yeah.” Lance bit his lip, choosing his next words carefully. “How, uh, how have things been for you? Since returning to your camp.”

Keith hummed, his eyes falling to floor. He also seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. Silence filled the space between them, only broken by the soft crunching of leaves beneath their shoes. It didn’t last long.

“Good,” he finally said. “I guess. Technically.”

“Technically?”

They passed many other orange-shirted campers, and while some of them gaped at Keith, none went up to them. It was as though they all knew not to bother the pair. Some did wave though.

“I mean, after all the quests we’ve been on, especially that last one, when we…” Keith trailed off. “Camp just feels boring, I guess. And lonely, without you.”

At that, Lance blushed.

Before he could say something that would probably be incredibly stupid—like Keith moving to this camp, or him moving to Keith’s, or the two of them saying _fuck it_ and moving somewhere entirely different together—Keith spoke up again.

“Are you having nightmares?”

Lance swallowed. “Yeah, I am.”

Keith squeezed his hand, looking down again.

“Me too,” he admitted.

“…What’s it like for you? Your nightmares?”

Just then, Lance stumbled, his foot hitting sand instead of solid ground.

“Oh, we’re here,” he breathed out, looking out at the dark blue ocean waters.

“It’s beautiful,” Keith whispered beside him. Then he smirked at him. “Race ya!”

He took off, and it was a full two seconds before Lance realized what had just happened.

“Like hell you’ll beat me here!” he shouted, kicking off his flipflops and running after Keith.

“You can try!” Keith shouted back, halfway to the pier already.

Lance caught up easily, but he matched pace with Keith until they were nearing the end of the wooden structure. As Keith begun slowly down, Lance grabbed his hand, ignore his cry of protest and _jumped_ , pulling Keith’s body close to his own.

Feeling the cool water surround him was…was _euphoric_. Lance felt invigorated, like everything would be okay. He felt powerful too.

A few seconds later, they broke out of the surface.

“You dick,” Keith laughed, lightly slapping Lance’s arm.

“You can’t tell me you’re surprised,” Lance laughed back, grinning.

Keith shook his hair, water droplets hitting Lance’s face. Lance retaliated by splashing water at him, and soon it was an all-out water-fight war. The sounds of their laughter echoed around them, and it had to be nearly half an hour before they finally dragged their soaking bodies back onto the beach, collapsing on the sand, Lance on his back and Keith on his stomach.

“You know,” Keith whispered, looking up at Lance through his wet bangs. “I’d travel Tartarus a hundred times over, if it meant having this with you. Everyday.”

Lance shuddered at the name.

 _Tartarus_.

A memory bubbled up within him—one that wasn’t his own.

He remembered him and Keith, running through the darkness. They fought beasts with sharp teeth and red eyes. They fought creatures with beating wings and piercing screams. They fought _things_ that he couldn’t even see, couldn’t even hold, but he could _feel_ , and what he felt was _terror_.

“Lance.”

Keith was leaning over him, frowning worriedly.

“Lance, that wasn’t…”

“G-Good?” he finished, voice straggled. “It was almost like…like I was being…pulled back…”

And Lance meant that twofold. The memory itself tugged at his mind and body in a way that left him aching. Like he was using all his strength, both physical and mental, to remain here on this beach.

But also, Lance could also feel himself swaying.

His time in this universe was nearly up.

Without thinking, Lance leaned up, tangling his hand in Keith’s hair and capturing Keith’s lips with his own. Keith kissed him back hungrily.

“I love you,” Lance whispered before he finally sank. “ _I love you, Keith._ ”

“ _Lance_!”

And then the strangest thing happened.

He sank back into the nothingness, the void, where all that existed was him…until he split in two.

Lance stared back at his own shocked face, a face that wore the orange shirt and white swim trunks he’d put on earlier with a beaded necklace floated around the neck.

The other Lance, the _demigod_ Lance, son of Poseidon, blinked at him, mouth agape.

For the first time, Lance realized he was wearing clothes too. The tattered flight suit from when it all had started clung to his body. In his chest was a hole from where he’d fallen on Keith’s sword.

Slowly, Lance reached out, wondering what would happen if he touched his other self. It seemed the other Lance had the same idea because he did the same.

But then, right before their fingers could touch, clawed hands reached out from the darkness, talons dripping red and gold blood. They encircled the other Lance’s neck. Bites and scratches marred the visible skin on his legs and arms.

Lance heard himself scream, but it didn’t come from his own throat—the other Lance fought against the hands, the teeth, but he was no match. With a cry for Keith, he disappeared into the blackness before Lance could even think to move.

 _Tartarus_.

Lance stared at the blackness where his other self had just been.

Not a trace of him was left.

All that surrounded Lance was the nothingness of the void once again.

That is, until he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, guys! Demigod Lance might’ve been dragged back to Tartarus, but only mentally! His body is still lying on the beach, and Keith and the others are already on the way to rescue him🥰 He’ll need lots of TLC after being rescued, and Keith is more than happy and willing to oblige❤️
> 
> \--
> 
> Lance = Poseidon —> yes, he is also the god of earthquakes!  
> Hunk = Hephaestus  
> Coran = Chiron (centaur who runs Camp Half Blood)  
> Pidge = Athena  
> Matt = Athena  
> Allura = Aphrodite —> and Allura can use charm speak  
> Adam = Hermes  
> Keith = Bellona (Roman goddess of war)  
> Shiro = Victoria (Roman goddess of victory)  
> Romelle = Aurora (Roman goddess of dawn)
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> Roommates AU (warning for angst and maybe nsfw too)  
> YouTube AU (based off my fic When Life Gives You Waves, Ride Them Out)  
> Fantasy AU (Castlevania AU)
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read & enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


	19. honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel like a person for a moment of my life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roommate AU 
> 
> Or: Lance and No, Actually, This Lance Probably Has It Worse Than He Does
> 
>   
> _**I advise you read the entire Beginning Note before beginning this chapter due to its much darker themes than the previous chapters held**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 2021 YOU BETTER BE FUCKING BETTER THAN 2020 ‘ELSE YOU’LL BE HERE FROM MY DAMN LAWYER
> 
> lol jk I don’t have a lawyer I’m too broke for that
> 
> \--
> 
> Welp, here it is! Chapter 19! Here you will find the rare and elusive bottom Lance content written by yours truly😎
> 
> …And also, **angst**. Specifically, _**langst**_. In addition, this chapter deals with a **darker** theme than the others did. Please mind the additional tags I posted at the bottom of this Note. However, there will *not* be any character death, graphic depictions of violence, or rape in this chapter, so if you’re concerned about that, no fear, this does *not* contain those tropes.
> 
>   
> **((Please know I recced some sfw fluffy twt threads in the End Notes to soothe the soul!!))**
> 
> On a lighter note, there _is_ some more juicy details about Lance’s life before Keith and him went on that exertion way back in chapter 1! Specifically, juicy details about his sex life—bow-chika-bow-wow😜💦
> 
> Additional tags to be aware of for this chapter include: gay Lance, bi Keith, taller Keith, hairy Keith, rough Keith, fuckboi Keith, low-key dub-con (it is *not* non-con, but there are some gray areas in regards to consent and Keith being rough), mentions of blood at the end, and, finally, [see End Notes for spoiler of the endgame relationship of this reality]
> 
> _You are welcome to comment or DM me on twitter to ask about something specific before reading this chapter; I promise I will answer as soon as I can._

Lance woke up with a start, still reaching out to grab for his other self.

But it was much too late and his hand collided painfully with a wall instead.

“ _Ow_! Shit,” he muttered, shaking out his hand and blinking back tears.

A moment later, the pain subsided, though his tears did not, and he furiously wiped them away. If anyone saw him crying, they’d ask why, and he _definitely_ wasn’t about to tell anyone about seeing his other reality’s self being dragged down into Tartarus, hell no.

Cautiously, he looked around for people.

He was alone.

With a sigh of relief, he looked around once again, this time to see where he was exactly…which was a room. More specifically, a room that almost looked like a college dorm, but homey. There was only one bed, firstly, and secondly, all the furniture seemed more like something _he_ would pick out for himself, not what would be issued at a university. The room was also much bigger than he’d expect it to be if he were actually at college once again.

So, not college—that can be crossed off.

(Wait, when did he start making a mental list of the places he could arrive at…? No, _stop_ , don’t got there, just get through this reality, and hope it’s the final one.)

Glancing down at the desk he was sitting at, he found it covered with loose-leaf papers, a few notebooks, lots of scatted pens and sticky notes, as well as a laptop on screensaver mode. He quickly became distracted by the photos appearing and reappearing on the screen—they were of him and his friends, all of whom he recognized from his reality as well as the others he visited.

Some of the photos were of them making silly faces, others shown them in stylish suits, and others were candid shots of them all just out and about.

What surprised him, though, was the photo of him wearing a rainbow tank top at what had to be a Pride event. Hunk was smiling widely next to him, waving a blue, pink, and white stripped flag in their air; his bare chest proudly sporting post-top surgery scars. Pidge, who sat atop his shoulders wore a pink, yellow, and blue bandana-crop top; she also held up a poster that said _Love Over Hate_. Shiro was next to Hunk, smiling sweetly and waving to the camera, wearing a black, grey, white, and purple stripped shirt. Finally, there was Keith, on Lance’s other side, wearing a pink, purple, and blue stripped V-neck shirt…and he was kissing Lance’s cheek.

So…that meant they were together, right?

Suddenly, a loud blaring sound filled the room and Lance jumped to his feet.

He whirled around, searching frantically for the intruder for several seconds longer than he’d care to admit before finally realizing it was just a _phone alarm_. He turned it off, but the title caught his eyes.

_‘Operation Take BK’s Virginity – 1 hour’_

Bk…BK…Did he know a BK?

As if the universe heard his question, a text message popped up.

(And, really, universe? _Really_? You’ll answer _this_ question, but not any of the others?? Rude.)

**_ Beefy Keef(y) _ ** **_ 🔪💜🐾 _ ** **_  
_ ** **_[4:31 PM]: I’ll be home about 20 minutes later than usual  
[4:31 PM]: Not because I’m chickening out so don’t even ask  
[4:32 PM]: Just a work thing_ **

Lance choked on his own spit.

BK…Beefy Keef(y)…

That could only be one person, couldn’t it?

Keith fucking Kogane.

Except…not really because if the alarm other Lance set was right, it was Keith _virgin_ Kogane.

Well, shit.

Lance leaned back in the chair, grinning smugly.

Yeah, okay, he could get behind this reality. He wouldn’t mind staying for a whi—

_< <The Plan>>_

“Now, what are you?” he mumbled, grabbing the notebook and flipping to the first page.

 _‘What Keith Might Want’_ was the title on the first page.

“Oh, shit.”

There was quite the list on that first page, some of the words had Lance blushing slightly, like cock warming and Daddy kink. Some words were marked with a big red line through them: cross dressing, pet play, and feet. Apparently, those weren’t things Keith might like. Now, choking, overstimulation, bondage, and temperature play were all highlighted, though the last two had small frowny faces next to them.

 _< <maybe next time ~~if there is one~~ >> _was written next to it.

Why the hell wouldn’t there be a next time? They were dating, weren’t they??

Quickly, Lance turned the page, finding a detailed schedule of what to do and what time to do it. He skimmed it, searching for something, _anything_ , that would explain the sudden ball of iron that his stomach formed after reading those four little words— ** _if there is one_**. The page held no answers for him, and he didn’t care to know about changing the sheets or charging the cameras or washing his ass.

He flipped to the next page, which had yet another schedule. This one focused on what to do when Keith was already home. The words _kissing_ and _blow job_ and _cock ring_ seem to jump from the page, but it still wasn’t an answer.

Lance tore his gaze away with a groan.

If the two were together, were _dating_ , then why the fuck would there not be a next time? And why did he feel so clammy and nauseous now? If he was going to be stuck in this reality, acting like this reality’s Lance, he _needed_ to know what was going on.

Maybe postpone it too. Or just flat out put a stop to it. Or—

Something shiny caught Lance’s eye.

Anxiously, Lance bolted to the bed and grabbed the object underneath the pillow.

 _< <_ _🌟☁_ _️Dream Journal_ _☁_ _️_ _🌟_ _> >_

A journal.

Except, if this reality’s Lance was like him, it wasn’t just any sort of “dream journal.”

No, it was a _diary_.

Lance’s hands shook as he opened it.

Briefly, the thought of not reading entered his mind, but he dismissed it almost immediately. He needed to know what was going on, he _needed to_. As much as he wanted to just jump in the sack and ravish Keith like he deserved, there was no way Lance was going to do something as important as _be Keith’s first ever lay_ and either 1) do something wrong, 2) say something wrong, 3) fuck something up, or 4) he doesn’t even know what to put here since he’s so in the dark as to what the hell is going on!

 _Okay, okay_ , Lance thought to himself, closing him eyes and taking a deep breath. _Stop. Breathe. It’ll all be okay. **Breathe**._

Half a minute later, he was ready to dive back into the journal. Sitting himself on the bed, he turned the journal to its first page. He skipped the entries that seemed to actually be about dreams and the ones that didn’t mention Keith at all.

But as neared the middle of the journal, more and more of the entries were about _him_ , Keith.

Lance lost himself in reading about his other life. He read the poems the other him wrote, about how in love he was, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his days with _< <the raven-haired firecracker with galaxies in his eyes>>_. Lance read about how elated the other him was when Keith finally agreed to be roommates; how he cried the day Keith came out to him as bi, that there was so much trust and safety shared between them; how heartbroken he was to be told that Keith liked _someone else_ ; how Keith came to him and asked him to take his virginity for that someone else; how—

Oh.

Oh _no_.

That was the last entry.

Lance flipped back and forth between when he was told Keith liked someone else and when he was asked to fuck Keith.

They were mere _weeks_ apart—not even a full month separated them! Sandwiched between the two events were pages upon pages of poems, all about hurt and heartbreak and anguish.

 _Fuck_.

“Fuck.”

Lance ran his hand through his hair.

Could he do this? Could _he_ do this?

This wasn’t like all those other times, where it was obvious the two were in love—or at least, _like_ —with each other, where the sex they shared had been loving and consensual and mind-blowing…

Well.

All the times except one.

If there was a reality where Keith loved him, but Lance didn’t seem to love him back, could this be the reality where Lance loved Keith, but Keith didn’t seem to love him back?

(Wait, did that mean that the Keith of _his_ reality actually lik—?!)

“No,” Lance hissed to himself, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “Don’t think that. This isn’t the time to focus on _that_.”

(Is there ever a right time?)

“ _Shut up_!”

Lance stood up and glanced at the phone. It was 5:09 PM.

“I’ll probably be gone by the time Keith arrives anyway,” he muttered to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay, let’s do this.”

Walking back to the desk, Lance reskimmed the schedule the other him made, then shucked off his clothes and walked out the bedroom door.

He forced himself to not focus on how cozy the living room looked. How _lived in_ it was, with blankets and video games, and books scattered around it. Even the kitchen seemed so domestic—a coffee maker, some dishes in the sink, a towel with a silly phrase embroidered on it.

Allowing his mind to blank, Lance’s feet took him right to the bathroom and his hands turned on the shower. He stepped into it a moment later, the water perfectly scalding. With his eyes closed, soaking in the hot water, his body once again moved on its own. He reached for the body wash and loofa, then the shampoo, then the conditioner. Finally, his hands trailed down his body and curved around his ass.

When a finger pressed against his own hidden ring of muscle, Lance fought down his initial reaction—which would’ve been to yank his hand away and yelp at the sudden intrusion—and, instead, pressed his hips back into his fingers. The conditioner still coating his hand made it easier to sink to his second knuckle than just plain water would’ve.

As he opened himself up, he imagined it was Keith’s fingers instead. His Keith. He imagined Keith pressing up behind him, kissing his neck. Or maybe Keith was on his knees in front of him, sucking him off while fingering him. Maybe it was both—a Keith behind him, a Keith before him…and a Keith in front of him, kissing him while he whispered how much he loved Lance, how much he was Lance’s, how much Lance was his.

Lance suddenly came with a shuddering cry.

He didn’t even realize he’d moved to jerk himself off with his other hand…or that he’d managed to work himself up to three fingers, all the way up his knuckles.

In his haze, he didn’t realize he stepped out of the shower and opened one of the sink’s drawers. Not until something was _pressing into him_ , at least.

“Shit!”

He arched as the plug entered him, ensuring he remained stretched for the foreseeable future.

After taking a few minutes to breathe and steady himself, Lance let his mind blank again. His body moved to towel himself off, then he applied moisturizer and other creams to himself. He admired how smooth this body was—even Lance’s own skincare routine didn’t leave him _this_ silky and hairless.

Instead of walking back to his room when he as done, he went to a different one, one that had to be _Keith’s_ , and began rearranging some of the items.

When Lance blinked back to himself, he now wore a silk robe that barely covered his ass, and in front of him was an assortment of small vibrators and dildos as well as two bottles of lube and a cock ring. The bed’s sheets had been changed with another fresh set placed on the desk across the room.

 _Damn, I sure am doing a lot of prepping…_ he thought, frowning slightly.

Then, a sound filled the air, and Lance rushed back to the other bedroom to grab his phone.

****

**_ Beefy Keef(y) _ ** **_ 🔪💜🐾 _ ** **_  
[5:36 PM]: Okay leaving now be home soon_ **

Soon…Did that mean he’ll be home in five minutes or ten? Twenty minutes?

“Fuck,” Lance repeated to himself. He looked up at the ceiling. “He universe? A-Allura? Can you, like, _please_ get me out of here now?”

…

Nothing.

Nothing except the damn phone chiming again.

**_[5:39 PM]: And don’t forget the cameras!_ **

Right, the cameras!

…Why the fuck did Keith want cameras?

“Probably better I don’t know,” he muttered to himself.

As he set up the tripods in the locations the notebook told him to, Lance wondered who the other person could be. It seemed Keith didn’t want to tell Lance a name, but there were plenty of guesses.

The first was Shiro.

 _< <first friend, childhood friends so maybe????>> _the other Lance had written next to the name, as well as, _< <very hot and sweet and kind though so if i had to lose to him i guess thats fine>>_

The next choice was Lotor.

 _< <pretentious fucker>> _had been written beside to that name. _< <but also not ugly,,and not actually that pretentious,,also came out as bi a bit ago,, **fuck!!**>>_

He didn’t recognize the third name, nor the fourth, but the fifth name had been James. There wasn’t a comment next to it though.

Just as Lance finished setting up the living room’s camera, there was a noise on the other side of the front door. He had just enough time to think, _No! Shit, why am I still here?!_ before all his thoughts stopped completely.

Keith was fucking _gorgeous_.

Oh, who is Lance kidding, Keith is _always_ gorgeous!

The man before him definitely lived up to his name: he was ripped as fuck! Also, so very tall!

While Lance’s own Keith would’ve looked very uncomfortable in the attire, this Keith wore the black business suit, no tie with the top two buttons undone, and black, leather shoes like he was born with them on. His hair was perfectly rumpled and _short_. Not, short-short, but not a mullet either. There was a bit of stubble on his chin, and Lance thought he might actually _swoon_.

He wondered what it was that Keith did (lawyer? CEO? company president?) but quickly shut down that train of thought.

It might be better if he didn’t know.

“H-Hey, Lance,” Keith greeted, shutting the door and setting down his messenger bag. His eyes seemed trained on Lance’s thighs. “You look…ready.”

Lance was torn between wanting to tease him for the blush quickly spreading across his face and down his chin, and wanting to cry at how Keith can react to him like _this_ , but apparently doesn’t any feelings for him at all!

“Thanks…” he mumbled quietly.

Keith finally tore his gaze away from Lance’s thighs, but instead of commenting on Lance’s unusual demeanor, he asked, “So, um, how do we start?”

The schedule flashed in Lance’s mind, but he hesitated.

“We…don’t have to yet,” he said. “If you’d rather wait.”

 _Please wait_ , he thought desperately. _Please let me leave this reality before you do this._

But no.

No, a fire started in Keith’s eyes instead.

“No, I want to do it now,” he insisted, straightening his shoulders.

Lance released his breath.

He didn’t realize he expected Keith to add, _“But if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,”_ until he didn’t hear it.

“So, how do we start?” Keith asked again.

“…How about with a kiss?”

Keith nods.

“Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

He didn’t move, so Lance stepped forward. Keith was seriously so tall in this reality. Even back when Keith had the two-year glow up on the space whale, Lance hadn’t been _this_ much shorter—almost five inches, it felt like! Those pictures on the laptop’s screensaver were quite deceptive.

“Pretend I’m the person you want,” he instructed, leaning up.

But Keith pulled away with a frown.

“Lance,” he started. “The whole point of this is you’re _not_ that person I want, remember?”

 _Well fuck, just rip my heat out, why don’t you?_ Lance thought sourly to himself.

Aloud, he corrected, “Then pretend I’m the person you want to be practicing with.”

This time, Keith gently pushed Lance back, his hands resting hotly on Lance’s shoulders.

“Lance, you _are_ the person I want to practice with.” He looked so sincere and confused as he continued with, “You’re my best friend, Lance. I trust you. I don’t want to do this with anyone else.”

_Oh._

Lance licked his lips.

“Right. Okay, then.” Shrugging Keith’s hands off his shoulders, he added, “Close your eyes.”

Keith immediately obeyed.

Before he could think of anything else—like how readily Keith obeyed him, or how he said he trusts Lance, or how fucking attractive he was—Lance stepped forward, placed his hands on the sides of Keith’s head, and brought his head down to his lips.

Well.

He might be a virgin, but Keith’s definitely _no stranger_ to kissing.

“Wh-Who’s teaching who here?” Lance gasped out, clutching Keith’s back when the other moved to suck a hickey on Lance’s neck.

“Kissing isn’t sex,” Keith muttered, trailing his lips back up to Lance’s.

“Your dick seems to think otherwise.”

Keith broke the kiss with a moan as Lance palmed him.

And holy fuck was the dude _hung_. None of the other Keiths were this big.

“You’re not gonna last,” Lance realized. “I’m not even touching you, and you’re about to come.”

“Fuck you, you _are_ touching me,” Keith panted, his hips thrusting into Lance’s open palm.

Lance had an idea, a horrible yet wonderful idea, and before he could decide whether or not to do it, his body was already sinking to its knees.

“No,” he said, unzipping Keith’s pants. “ _This_ is touching you.”

Pulling out Keith’s giant, dripping cock, Lance wrapped his lips around the head and sucked.

“ _Shit_!”

Not even five seconds later, Lance was pulled off harshly, Keith’s hand fisted tightly in his hair.

“I-I’ll come,” he gasped. “Don’t, not yet…”

“Keith, _baby_ ,” Lance purred, relishing in how Keith’s moaned at the pet name. “Trust me, you’ll be able to get it back up again no sweat. And it’ll feel _so good_ to come now, down my throat, _I promise_.”

“I…” he gulped. “Okay. Okay. Do it.”

Lance waited for just a moment, but when Keith didn’t remove the hand from his hair—in fact, he _nudged_ Lance forward instead—Lance decided, _fuck it_ , and dove back in.

“ _Aaah~_ Oh, shit, shit _shit_ …!”

Lance didn’t do much—he sucked a little, licked a little, locked his lips around the head and twisted his tongue a little—before Keith was coming.

But he wasn’t expecting Keith’s hand to _push him further down_ on his cock, choking him.

“Fuck, I see why all your exes stayed with you for so long,” Keith gasped out when he was finally finished.

“R- _Rude_ ,” Lance retorted, his voice sounding way too wrecked from just a short blowjob.

“Now what?

Slowly, Lance got to his feet, knees shaking. The fact that Keith merely watched him, didn’t offer any help, had his heart squeezing painfully.

“Now, we go to your room,” he said, immediately turning around to walk forward so Keith wouldn’t see the expression on his face. “And you strip.”

Fucking hell, _why_ was he still here? Why wasn’t he _gone_ yet??

“Could I…keep my clothes on instead?”

Lance, having just turned the two cameras in Keith’s room on, finally faced him with a frown.

“Sex is usually a naked affair, Keith.”

“I…I know that,” he huffed, red tinging his cheeks. Was it because he was actually embarrassed or was it just leftover pleasure from the blowjob? “But I just…No, I guess you’re right. I’ll take my clothes off.”

He shrugged off his jacked and began unbuttoning his dress shirt. It wasn’t in a sexy manor either—just a routine, mundane stripping.

Lance turned his back on Keith, feeling like he was a creep for watching Keith strip. He fiddled with the stuff on the desk to occupy himself.

It was weird how Keith acted so into the sex parts of this, but not the other parts, the softer, intimate parts. Had they actually been dating, Lance would’ve led Keith into the room—their shared room, most likely—with a coy smile and a giggle. He would’ve stopped to kiss him and strip him along the way. Would’ve pushed him on the bed and straddled him and whispered dirty things in his ear. Would’ve made Keith _work for it_ —if he wanted to fuck Lance, he had to show he could have the stamina to keep it up for the hours Lance needed.

He didn’t bottom often, mostly because he didn’t have sex often, and when he did, it had usually been a one-night stand with some party girl or petite twink. He’d been in such denial of his crush on Keith, back in his own reality, that he’d purposefully seek out people who _didn’t_ look like him, just so he could continue saying he didn’t like Keith.

So, yeah, he didn’t bottom often, but when he did, it was either alone in his room, where he could ride his dildo for _hours_ or when he was so insanely drunk that he let the broad, muscular, motorcycle-owning men take him away from the loud, bustling crowd and have their way with him. Sometimes they didn’t even make home, let alone a bed. Once in a while, the broad, muscular, motorcycle-owning men would be the ones to straddle and ride him until it was _their_ asses and thighs that were bruised, not his. That didn’t happen often though.

How would his Keith react to knowing this about him? Knowing that, when the quiet of being in that farm house, away from all his friends, got to be too loud, too suffocating, he would go to the nearest town for a hard fuck, just to _feel_ something?

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Lance turned around, keeping his face as neutral as possible as he took in the sight before him. Keith was reclining on the pillows pressed against beadboard like he was a fucking king or god or something. He was also naked as the day he was born, though with _a lot_ more hair. Probably.

Unlike Lance, who was smooth and hairless all over, except his face, Keith’s pale skin was covered in fine, black hair from his ankles to his chest and down to his wrists. It wasn’t so thick that Lance couldn’t see any skin—or abs, _holy shit_ , those _abs_ —beneath the coat, except near his groin, which had definitely never seen a razor in its life. Keith’s cock, which was resting on his thigh, _his thigh_ , was already sporting a half-chub.

Picking up the cock ring, Lance pulled his lips into a grin he didn’t quite feel.

“Then let’s get started.”

First, Lance dropped his robe. The way Keith drank him in, licking his lips, gave him the confidence to grab the lube and swing himself atop Keith, straddling his upper thighs. Then, he drizzled some drops of lube on the ring and gently took hold of Keith’s cock.

“Tell me if it’s too tight,” he instructed.

He waited until Keith nodded before he carefully slid the ring down the shaft. Since it was Keith’s first time, he nestled the ring at the base of his cock, above his balls instead of under them.

 _This Lance sure is lucky I know how to do this shit_ , he thought to himself.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing, sorry.” Lance shifted up. “Now, it’s your turn.”

“What do I—?”

Lance shoved the bottle of lube in his hands.

“You finger me,” he explained. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it. And I already did most of the work beforehand.”

Keith frowned, looking at the bottle.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing this with h…with them,” he said slowly.

Lance swallowed down the lump in his throat.

“Yes, you will,” he assured, his voice quieter than he wanted it to be. “Everyone has an asshole, Keith. And—And it’s not the only hole that needs to be stretched.”

“Oh!” Keith seemed to brighten at that. “Okay, tell me what to do.”

As Lance leaned forward, canting his hips in the air, and instructed Keith how to finger him, the thought _‘It’s a girl, it’s a girl, it’s a fucking **girl** ’ _echoed in his mind.

Was it Pidge? Or, well, technically it would be Katie, right? She was pan in this reality, according to the photo on the laptop.

Maybe it was Romelle. Lance saw her in a few of the other photos on the laptop. There was one where she, Lance, and Allura were pictured in a _Charlie’s Angels_ pose together, Coran standing behind them.

Or maybe it wasn’t a _girl_ , but someone with a _pussy_ …

Like Hunk. Maybe it was him—he was trans in this reality, after all.

(And if it was Hunk…well, that could be okay. Yeah. Hunk could be…good for Keith…better than a random stranger at least.)

“ _Fuck_! Okay, okay, pull out,” Lance moaned, arching as Keith’s fingers hit his prostate.

“Wait, I want to…”

Keith rubbed at the spot again, harder this time, and Lance squirmed.

“ _Keith_ ,” he whined, pressing his face into the other’s shoulder. God, he smelled so good. “ _Stop_. Pull out. _Please_.”

“But you seem to really like this, _Lance_.”

 _That’s exactly the problem_.

Lance didn’t say that. Instead, he just pushed his hips back and pretended that this was real. That this was _his_ Keith, who actually _liked_ him, _wanted_ him.

“ _Keith~_ ” he breathed out, shuddering as he came all over them both.

“O-Oh!” Keith finally pulled his fingers out and then pushed Lance away from his chest, so he could look at the mess between their bodies. “I didn’t think you’d come from that…”

Lance grunted, his mind slowly clearing, now that he orgasmed.

“A virgin who never watched any porn,” he tried to tease, though he was too breathless for it to work. “Who would’ve thought.”

“I’ve watched porn,” Keith scowled. “I just didn’t think it was _that_ realistic.”

Shrugging, Lance shifted backwards. He wasn’t about to tell Keith that, usually, men _don’t_ come from only being fingered. Granted, this body was probably way more used to this type of sex than Lance’s actual body was, so maybe it really wasn’t that unrealistic for this Lance. He wasn’t going to tell that to Keith either though.

“First, I’m going to ride you,” he stated, coating Keith’s dick in lube. He smirked at the almost-pained noise that came out of Keith’s throat at the movement. “Then, I’ll tell you how to fuck me.”

“Just g-get on with it,” Keith growled out, jerking his hips up.

He looked positively wrecked already.

“Tut, tut.” Lance rolled his thumb over Keith’s slit. “Patience, young Padawan.”

“Th-The fuck’s that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, rising to his knees. “Just close your eyes and— _YEAAAA_!!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Keith panted, looking utterly blissed out. “You were, _aah_ , t-taking too lo-long, _fuck_ …”

Lance gritted his teeth, hands clasped tightly around Keith’s wrists, which were holding his hips in a bruising grip. He was now halfway-speared on Keith’s dick.

“D-Don’t fucking do that!” he hissed out, trying to pull himself off, but to no avail. Keith wasn’t let him go _anywhere_. “Fuck, Keith, you could’ve hurt me!”

“Sorry,” he repeated, sounding more sincere this time. He opened his eyes to look at Lance. “It’s just that sh—the person told me they like it r-rough, and you said you do too, so I—”

“ _Communication_ ,” Lance snapped, not wanting to hear the rest of his excuse. “Is key here, Keith. Don’t fucking do that to me again, or I’ll _leave_.”

“Oh…” Keith bit his lip, his eyes cast down. “I understand. I really am sorry, Lance.”

Lance tried to pry Keith’s hands off his hips, but Keith didn’t seem to realize what he was doing. He had half a mind to snap at Keith again, demanding him to put his hands down, but Lance really wanted this to be over with sooner than later. It was hard to fully lose himself in the experience when Keith kept reminding him that this was for _someone else_. Some girl or vagina-having person that Lance couldn’t dare compete with.

Slowly, Lance sunk down the rest of the way.

He tried to ignore the sharp stinging that seemed to radiate everywhere his body.

God, what would’ve happened if he _hadn’t_ prepped himself before? If Keith _hadn’t_ fingering him ‘til he orgasmed just moments ago?

Fuck, he definitely doesn’t want to know what would’ve happened.

“Lance, you…”

He flinched as a hand touched his face.

When he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and looked down, he startled at seeing Keith’s expression.

“You’re…crying…” Keith murmured, his hand still hovering in the air, as if it wanted to touch him again, but was too afraid to.

Lance scrubbed at his face, ignoring how his chest tightened pathetically.

Keith looked so…so _concerned_ at Lance’s tears. A quiet voice asked, _‘Does this mean he **does** like me?’ _while another, louder, voice hissed back, _‘Of course, he’s concerned, he’s your **friend** , he doesn’t want to actually **hurt you**.’_

 _‘No,’_ the first voice said sadly. _‘He wants to hurt **someone else**.’_

 _Oh, god, **shut up** ,_ Lance furiously thought back.

Those weren’t his thoughts. Fuck, this didn’t happen nearly as much in the other realities, hearing the echoes of the other Lances’ thoughts.

“That’s what happens when the dick is so good,” he gritted out. “Whoever you like is a lucky bitch.”

That did the trick.

“They’re not a bitch,” Keith shot back at him. “Sh— _They’re_ very nice, actually.”

“Sure.”

Lance rolled his hips, biting back a moan. Even with their conversation, he was still hard as a rock—in fact, he’s pretty sure the very nature of their conversation, even the bit about communication, actually made his dick _harder_. (Guess this Lance really did like it rough.) However, Keith was the exact opposite. He was _softening_ inside Lance.

“Well, whoever ‘they’ are,” Lance started. “Now’s the time to picture them.”

“But—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance waved him off. “I know the whole point of this is that I’m not them, but, dude, you can’t practice with a soft cock.”

He groaned. “Okay, fine.”

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His hands fell down to his sides, loosely holding Lance’s silky thighs.

Carefully, Lance rolled his hips again—yep, Keith was already hardening up.

He wanted to encourage, Keith, whisper, _“Come one, baby, you got this; get hard for me,”_ but he was afraid it would only ruin whatever was in Keith’s imagination.

As Lance begun picking up speed, Keith’s hands slowly trailed up from his thighs, to his hips, to his sides, and then back to his hips again. He wasn’t able to stop the hiss of pain when fingers dug into his bruises. When Keith opened his eyes and looked up at him, he nearly faltered, but then the _unthinkable_ happened.

“ _Lance_ ~” Keith moaned, eyes lidded. “ _Aah_ , fuck, so good, you’re _so good_ , Lance~”

Lance bounced himself harder, leaning forward to place his hands on Keith’s chest and really work his hips.

“ _Shit_!” Keith moaned at the change of angle.

“You like that?” slipped from Lance’s lips.

Keith nodded. “ _Yes_! Fuck yes…”

Feeling confident again, Lance opened his mouth to start explaining to Keith how he’d need to plant his feet on the bed and thrust up if he wanted to start fucking him, but the words choke and die in his throat. Keith had just _grabbed his dick_ and was now _jerking him off_.

“Fuck, come on,” he goaded. “Come for me, Lance.”

At the words, Lance’s body shuddered and he did exactly that.

He rode the waves of pleasure, absolutely gone from the world…that is, until he blinked back aware and suddenly found himself pressed against Keith’s sheets, ass in the air.

“K-Keith…?”

“I want to come too,” was the hasty response as hands grabbed his hips and pulled him back onto Keith’s cock.

Except something was wrong…because Keith was big, really big, but he wasn’t _that_ big…right?

“Wha,” he tried to say. “S’in me?”

For a moment, all Lance could hear was the slapping of bare skin on bare skin and his own moans. If he concentrated, he could hear Keith’s pants and grunts, but it was so fucking hard to concentrate when his whole body was shuddering from overstimulation.

“S-Stop,” he moaned, unable to hear himself. “S’too much…”

He’s unsure how long it took for Keith to finally come, filling him up so damn much he felt _bloated_ , but what he was sure about, was that he was crying so hard he got snot all over Keith’s pillowcase.

“Fuck,” Keith panted, finally pulling out and falling down beside Lance.

Blearily, Lance opened his eyes. Keith was lying on his back with a thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin. He looked so fucking good in a post-sex haze.

“Was tha’ a good ‘fuck’?” Lance managed to ask, only slurring a little bit.

“Yeah,” Keith grinned, his eyes still closed. “The _best_.”

Lance snorted. “The only, you mean.”

Keith laughed at that, actually full-on _cackled_.

“Oh, shut up,” he said, his voice light and teasing. Opening his eyes, he turned his head. “Hey Lance?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

Lance blinked at him.

“I think…I should be telling you that,” he started slowly. “Don’t think I really taught you anything. You sure you’re a virgin?”

“Well, not anymore,” Keith laughed, though he sobered quickly. “But, no, I _should_ be thanking you. Not a lot of best friends would, you know, help someone out like this.”

“Some best friends, then,” Lance muttered, closing his eyes.

“Right?!”

God, how the hell did Keith still have _so much damn energy_ after that fuck??

“Shiro told me it was weird to ask this of you, but he’s ace, so of course he doesn’t really know what he’s talking about.”

Lance hummed, too tired to really do anything than take in the information being fed to him. If he had even an ounce more energy, he might’ve felt horrified at knowing that Shiro knew what he and Keith were doing. Or he would’ve told Keith that just because Shiro was ace didn’t mean he didn’t have experience and valid points about having sex or, in this case, having sex with your best friend who you’re not in love with but who’s in love with you.

“I’m glad we could do this,” Keith continued. “That we can, you know, fuck and still be best friends, no weird feelings or hurt feelings.”

_No hurt feelings._

“Right.”

“The sign of a true friendship—being able to fuck, no strings attached.”

Lance had _so many_ things he could’ve said to that.

Instead, he found himself asking, “So, who is it?”

There was a pause.

“Who is what?”

Keith voice was careful. Not cold, but not warm either.

Lance opened an eye to look up at Keith’s blank face. “Your crush, dumbass. Who is she?”

“She?”

Sudden anger bubbled within Lance, enough to give him the energy to push himself up and sit on his calves.

“Yeah, _she_. It was very obvious,” he spat, surprising himself with how pissed he sounded.

“Oh…”

Maybe it was because he could _feel_ Keith’s cum leaking from his ass, dripping down his heels to his toes. And—

Wait a minute.

Lance reached behind himself, putting his fingers up his sensitive-as-hell hole and began feeling around. He latched onto something and pulled out.

It was a fucking _dildo_. One of the small ones that he had placed on the bedside table earlier. No wonder Keith felt bigger than usual—he’d stuck a goddamn _dildo_ up him! What the fuck had he been thinking!?

Lance wanted to scream at Keith.

The person sitting in the bed next to him was _nothing_ like the Keith he knew, like all the Keiths he had met.

 _“Best friend” my fucking **ass** ,_ he thought darkly.

If this was how this Keith treated him, like he was just a _thing_ he could use to better his own life, then how did the other Lance treat the other Keith? The one who worked at the strip club and was so clearly in love with the older man who had a wife and kids?

Actually, Lance didn’t want to know.

He slammed the dildo down harshly next to all the other toys, and Keith didn’t even flinch.

“Never mind,” he muttered. “Don’t tell me.”

_Hopefully, I’ll be gone soon anyway, to somewhere much better than here._

“Please don’t be mad.”

Lance froze. One, two, three seconds, then—

“Why would I be mad?”

Keith looked down at his hands.

“You don’t really like her,” he whispered. “You say she’s a player and she’ll never settle, never stop messing around.”

 _Great, so she’s some stranger_ , Lance thought to himself with a sigh.

“But _I love her_ , Lance. I want to _marry her_.”

Lance didn’t have the energy to do anything other than listen.

“I know she fucks around a lot, but she…” he sighs serenely. “She’s so _beautiful_ , Lance. Starlight hair, killer smile, eyes so blue you could drown in them.”

Lance now had the energy to do one other thing beside listen—and that was choke on his spit.

Because…

Was Keith seriously describing…?

“I love, Allura, Lance,” Keith said. “I just can’t help it.”

“Then why not fuck her?” he asked.

There was no rage in his voice. No pain or anger or even heartbreak. It was emotionless, numb, exactly how Lance felt.

“You know why,” Keith sighed, turning his gaze down again. “She doesn’t fuck virgins. She wants someone with experience.”

“And you really think you’re an expert now?”

“Of course not,” Keith huffed, rolling his eyes. “It’ll take _at least_ three more sessions.”

_Three more sessions._

Lance grimaced.

“After that, I’ll finally be able to ask her out. I already have the best date idea picked out—I want to show her I can be more than just a friend, you know?”

“Yeah.”

Keith yawned then, stretching in a way that should’ve been so sexy, but just…wasn’t. Not anymore.

“Okay, I’m exhausted.” He nudged Lance. “I have to change my sheets, dude. Go to your room.”

Lance blinked.

“My room?” he repeated, carefully standing up, unable to hide his wince as he felt every damn muscle in his body protesting at the movement.

“Yeah, your room.” Keith glanced at him, then _laughed_. “Oh, man, did I really fuck your brains out, Lance? Wow, I can’t believe you got your shit absolutely _rocked_ by a virgin.”

“Hey,” Lance started, attempting to defend himself, but Keith barreled on, still chuckling.

“The deal was we sleep in our own beds, remember? If we slept in mine, we’d have to _cuddle_ ,” Keith gagged. “Gross.”

Lance watched Keith strip his bed, the motion mirroring how his heart felt.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with cuddling, Keith,” he murmured.

“That’s couple-shit,” Keith countered. “Now, come on. I wanna go to bed. Out.”

Lance walked out the room, still naked and dripping cum out of his ass, and flinched as the door shut. It wasn’t a slam, but it might as well have been.

Suddenly, the door was yanked back open, and a little hope flared in Lance’s heart.

“Shit, dude, we forgot about the cameras,” Keith laughed, pointing at the tripods behind him. “Do you think you can have them edited in, like, two days? I want to see what I need improvement on before next weekend.”

“…Sure, buddy,” Lance said, the hope fizzling out as quickly as it had appeared.

He went back in the room to grab the two cameras and tripods, turning them off as he did so.

“Sweet, night, Lance,” Keith yawned.

“Goodn—”

The door shut.

“—night, Keith.”

He sighed. After a moment’s pause, he moved towards the couch to gently lay the equipment down. As he reached for the third camera, the one he set up in the living room, an idea struck him.

A really stupid idea.

A potentially _dangerous_ idea, if the wrong people were to ever find it.

… _Fuck it_.

Lance grabbed the last camera and limped to his bedroom to set it down on the desk.

He took his towel from earlier to put on the chair before sitting on it, wincing and hissing as he did.

“H-Hey, Lance,” he finally grited out, waving at the camera. “It’s me, Lance.

“Or, well, it’s _a_ Lance. I’m from a different reality. A parallel world, if you will.”

He gave the camera a weak smile.

“I know. It sounds totally fucked, right? But you don’t remember this, do you? You don’t remember _any_ of this.” He gestured to his neck, then stood up to show off the bruises on his hips. “Oh, uh, sorry for flashing you…with you own dick…fuck.”

Lance scrubbed his face. “My…my _soul_ is different, but this is your body. So, sorry for the pain you’re going to feel when you wake up in it. Keith was…he was really something…and not a good something. I mean, he was _good_ , but also really rough and—

“Shit, sorry, I’m getting a little off topic here.”

With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and looked directly into the camera.

“Listen, this thing you’re doing with your Keith…it’s _unhealthy_ , dude. It’s so fucking unhealthy, and I know you know it. I’m _you_. Also, I can kinda feel your thoughts? Like, your thoughts from before I, uh…took over? I guess that’s the best word…

“Shit, off topic again! Sorry! Look, Lance. Me.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt, if you keep doing this. Fucking Keith until he feels ready to go off and ask Allura—that, that’s who he likes by the way, it’s _Allura_ —you can’t let him fuck you, _hurt you_ , until he’s ready to just throw you away and go to _her_. It’s so unhealthy, dude. And wrong! So wrong. This isn’t…This isn’t something best friends do. Not like this anyway.”

He sighed.

“But I know I can’t stop you from doing it though. And I understand why you’d want to. I really do. I…I love Keith too. _My_ Keith, from my reality.

“It took me a while to accept that I was bi—oh, yeah. I’m, uh, I’m the bi one in my reality. I actually had a crush on Allura too…that was when I was in denial about my feelings for Keith. And then later, after I’d accepted them, I was so sure that Keith wouldn’t ever like me in that way…

“Shit, sorry, this is all off topic again.” He rubbed at his face again, shivering. Did the thermostat break? It was _freezing_ in here. “Lance, my point is, I _know_ it’ll suck, but you have to let Keith go. It’ll suck way more if you don’t. And who knows, maybe he’ll come back to you. I mean, I stopped crushing on Allura too.”

_Because she only liked me as a friend, even when she tried to like me for more, and then she just up and **died** on me, on **all of us** …_

He kept that thought to himself.

“But, again, I know how stubborn we both are. When we set our minds to something, it’s nearly impossible to talk us out of it…Still, I thought I’d try.”

He took a deep breath, trying to put on an encouraging smile.

“Whatever happens, Lance, just know you’re not alone. There’s literally _hundreds_ of Lances across the multiverse, who love Keith, like me and you. You’re not alone…But what you _are_ , is absolutely filthy, so I’ll go take a shower now, yeah? Make sure you feel all nice and clean when you take over this body again. Bye, Lance! And good luck.”

With another wave, he shut the camera off.

Then the rest of his energy immediately drained out of his body.

He felt dizzy, but not in a _swaying_ -way, just in a…a…fuck, he doesn’t even know. He’s never felt like this after sex before.

All throughout his shower, no matter how hard he scrubbed at his body and turned the water hotter and hotter, he was still shivering. It was almost like he was hovering just a few inches to the left of his body. He was still able to control himself, still _in it_ , mostly, but not _fully_.

He moment he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, he swayed.

 _Finally,_ he thought. Then, _Oh shit!_

Not only did his knees buckle—which, honestly, he was surprised hadn’t happened sooner, considering he’d been shaking like a chihuahua the entirely of the shower—but his foot stepped onto the wet, tile floor and _slipped_.

“ _FUCK_!” he heard himself scream right before there was a sickening crunch of his head hitting the sink.

 _Oh, no,_ he thought, as his vision tunned. _I just **killed** this Lance!_

The pain was so sharp, he could still feel it as he began sinking down into the redness.

Wait, redness?

Wasn’t the void bla—oh that was blood tricking down his face.

Shit, he really _did_ kill this Lance didn’t he?

Suddenly, a face—worried, anxious—appeared before in front of him.

“Lance!” Keith cried out, voice distant. “Lance, wake up!”

Lance had never been able to stop himself from drifting away before, and right now wasn’t any different.

“S’rry, K’th,” he mumbled, able to taste a faint trace of copper, before he was yanked away, indefinitely.

He didn’t see the other version of himself in the void, not like he had when his demigod self had been dragged down int Tartarus.

 _Is he alive?_ he asked the void. It was the first time he ever tried to speak in here. _Please tell me, he’s alive…_

He doesn’t truly expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one.

Unless him waking up in yet another reality, was the universe telling him the other Lance woke up too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **end game relationship is kallura (Keith x Allura)
> 
> \--
> 
> The good news! Other Lance survives! He wakes up in a hospital a few days later with lots of stitches and a horribly severe concussion.
> 
> However, the bad news…klance does not survive.
> 
> While I love the idea of starcrossed lovers that're fated to be together in every life, reality, story…I also love the idea of anomaly realities, where the soulmates _aren’t_ together.
> 
> Also, fyi, I wrote this Keith as being a bit of an oblivious dick with a smidgen of internalized homophobia, but that's it—he does care for Lance, but it's only as a friend.
> 
> _**If you want to know how I see this reality's end, read on; if not, skip down to where I rec fluff!** _
> 
> //cw for suicidal thoughts below
> 
> After being discharged, Lance finds and watches the video (my) canon Lance made for him…and he watches it religiously—after, of course, being confused as fuck and wondering if, somehow, he got a concession before hitting his head. Eventually, he accepts the video as truth though. The logistics of how it came about don't matter to him, all that matters is that there's other Lances who love their Keith too. He decides to make _damn sure_ that his Keith falls in love with him…but just as (my) canon Lance predicted, this Keith discards Lance the moment he feels ready to sweep Allura off her feet.
> 
> Keith does eventually find out that Lance is in love with him, _years_ later. He finds Lance passed out drunk on his bathroom floor (it used to be _their_ bathroom floor before Keith moved out to live with his now-wife, Allura) and when he picks Lance up to put him into his bed, Lance wakes up just enough to be almost-kinda-sorta coherent. He believes that an angel is holding him and asks if he’s dead. Keith, horrified, quickly assures him that he’s very much alive, but Lance does not want this assurance and begins crying, saying he wants to be with the angels. Keith start panicking since his best friend is saying that he wants to _die_.
> 
> “Life hurts too much,” Lance explains without prompt. “ _Keith_ hurts too much.”
> 
> Keith sits on the edge of Lance’s bed, his heart sinking lower and lower in his chest, as Lance, drunk out of his mind, continues on about how pathetic he is for not being able to get over his _married_ best friend, who trusted him with his virginity and to be his Best Man, but didn’t trust him with his _heart_.
> 
> When Lance eventually drifts into unconsciousness, Keith numbly brushes the fringe out of his best friend’s face, places water and aspirin on his bedside table, then goes to his car. He can’t seem to cry out the tears that so desperately want to fall down his cheeks.
> 
> He doesn’t mention any part of what happened to Lance or even Allura, but he doesn’t change anything about his life either—he loves Lance, but not in the way Lance wants him to. Still, he isn’t able to shake out that numbness lodged in his heart for the rest of his life.
> 
> Eventually, Lance does find and marry someone—Lotor, an ex of Allura. She and Keith are happy for the two of them, but neither know the truth, that’s there’s comfort in knowing that there’s another person living out in the world, just as shattered as you are, 'til the day they both succumb to old age.
> 
> \--
> 
> ✨❤️💙✨  
>  **Here’s some sfw fluff to read after this:**  
> [Pop Star Lance AU](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1234545156034088962) (https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1234545156034088962)  
> [Reverse Tattoo/Flower Shop AU](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1246264925661659139) which has art!! (https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1246264925661659139)  
> and [A Whisker Away AU](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1278421467047374848) (https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely/status/1278421467047374848)  
> ✨💙❤️✨ 
> 
> \--
> 
> Coming Up:  
> YouTube AU (based off [When Life Gives You Waves, Ride Them Out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512413/chapters/43872751) ... https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512413/chapters/43872751)  
> Fantasy AU (Castlevania AU - probably **NSFW** )  
> Canon Divergent AU
> 
> \--
> 
> ☕️come share a [ko-fi coffee](https://ko-fi.com/katerinariley0707) with me!
> 
> 💙to DM me, read my latest threads, &/or watch me obsess over my latest fixation(s) in real time, follow me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/KaterinaWritely)
> 
> \--
> 
> If you read and enjoyed my work, feel free to comment a ❤️ or a 😊 or even a ❗️❗️❗️ if you're unsure what to say. Thanks a bunches😘✨


End file.
